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3? . J 



I THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, | 
J Princeton, N. J. % 

BR 1725 .T33 J6 1839 
Jones, Lot, d. 1865. 
Memoir of Mrs. Sarah Louisa 
Taylor 



SELECT 

CHRISTIAN AUTHORS, 

WITH 

INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS. 

N° 63. 




df. 




MEMOIR 

OF 

M"' SARAH LOUISA TAYLOR ; 

OR, 

AN ILLUSTRATION OF THE WORK OF THE HOLY SPIRIT, IN 
AWAKENING, RENEWING, AND SANCTIFYING THE HEART. 

BY 

LOT JONES, A.M., 

NEW YORK. 



WITH 

AN INTRODUCTORY ESASY, 

BY 

NATHANIEL PATERSON, D.D., 

ADTHOR OF THE MANSE GARDEN. 



GLASGOW: 
WILLIAM COLLINS, S. FREDERICK ST. 

EDINBURGH: OLIVER & BOYD ; WILLIAM WHYTE & CO J 

AND WILLIAM OLIPHANT & SON. 

DUBLIN : WILLIAM CURRY, JUNIOR, & CO. 

LONDON : WHITTAKER & CO.; HAMILTON, ADAMS, & CO; 

AND SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. 

1839. 



Glasjow : 

^^llllalll i'oliirjs \ Co., Printers. Noitli .Montrose Street. 



INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 



The chief use of such a memoir as the following is 
to illustrate the work of God in turning a soul from 
darkness to light ; and when two things are alike 
obvious to the eyes of the world — the fact of moral 
darkness with its misery, and that of a new light with 
its rejoicing hopes — there is, or well may be, a felt 
conviction that the change effected is by a divine 
power, that it is the most blessed of all things to the 
creature, and worthy of Him that worketh all in all. 
It is so ordered, in the accomplishing of this 
momentous renovation, that it shall never fail to be 
attended by two witnesses : the one an inward expe- 
rience of a new life — the other an outward manifes- 
tation of a new character. We say attended, be- 
cause it is not merely for once, as in the presence of a 
court of justice, that these witnesses deliver their 
testimony ; but, being privy to the first beginning, 
they are present at every step of the enlightening 
process, and fail not to accompany the enlivened and 
converted soul all the way to the close of its career. 
The one of these witnesses, speaking within, is quite 
satisfying to the subject of the change ; the other, 



VI 



by pointing outwardly to the effects produced, may 
satisfy the spectators and convince them that the 
change wrought is no other than the work of God. 
The inward witness speaks in the terms of a ijeart- 
felt experience: "This I know, that whereas I was 
bhnd, now I see ;" the outward calls the attention of 
friends and neighbours to the fact, that " If any man 
be in Christ he is a new creature," and has no more 
fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but 
walks as it becomes the children of the hght and of 
the day. 

It is impossible not to admire the wisdom of an 
arrangement by which there shall always be two such 
witnesses. The entrance of Divine light is the most 
blessed of all things here below. It commences the 
joy of a heavenly hope. Descending, as a sunbeam 
through the rent clouds, on a dark and troubled sea, 
it is all the fairer that it falls beside the still visible 
gloom that previously lay betwixt the soul and its 
eternity. Now it might seem enough that the per- 
son so enlightened should he left to go on his heaven- 
ward way in his own gladness — the witness in his 
own heart being sufficient for him : But the Lord 
is gracious, and will make this instance of his good- 
ness an instrument for good to others also. Hence 
the use of another witness, namely, the outward test 
of a new character ; and hence it is so ordered that 
he who hath this hope in him shall purify himself as 
Christ is pure — that the receiver of this grace shall 
lead a new life — a life that seeks to please God in 
all things. And it is thus, when the enlightened 
give all diligence to the observance of a holy and 
liffhtcous law which is authorised in the word or 



found written in the heart, but which is not more 
certainly known than it is ceaselessly violated — it is 
thus that they set an example of living altogether 
unlike the world, but one of which the most worldly 
may nevertheless be constrained to acknowledge the 
superiority. And it may be too, that along witli 
what is confessedly good in the example before them, 
they may, on nearer intercourse with tha person so 
outwardly adorned, come to the discovery that he is 
inwardly blessed — that he holds a present and pro- 
spective treasure to which they are utter strangers : 
and if these riches, so manifested but yet untried, 
should lead them to a diligent search in order to gain 
the like possession, then sure we are that by the grace 
of God they will not search in vain. 

But the wisdom of the arrangement by which 
there shall be a twofold witness to the work in ques- 
tion is deeper laid than we have yet stated. Not 
only is there in the world an entire want of joy in 
God, together with an aversion to his will ; but no 
sooner is an individual of the race won over to a love 
of the Divine law and delight in the Lawgiver, than 
there is excited amongst his kindred a suspicion of 
his pretensions, if not a hatred of his person. He 
is regarded as an apostate from former principles, and 
as an alien to former associates ; and seeing that the 
part he has taken cannot with a good show of reason 
be condemned, the refuge is to give the worst name 
to the best thing, and hypocrite, fanatic, or fool, are 
the terms by which his character is branded. In 
these circumstances nothing can be conceived more 
excellent than the twofold witness to which we have 
alluded. The one is ready with its inward admoni- 



tio;, " It is a small thing for me to be judged of 
mail's judgment ;" the other all the while maintains 
outwardly a meek and powerful pleading against the 
accusers, causing them in the long run to -uspcct 
that, after all, their accusations must be wrong ; for it 
is seen that this so-called hypocrite is constantly about 
good works — that, being reviled, he revileth not again, 
but watches the opportunity of overcoming evil with 
good. 

Wherever the enlightening of a soul is really 
wrought by the word and Spirit of God, it will not 
fail to be accompanied by both these witnesses; to 
this end, that, whilst unitedly they attest the reality 
of the work, they are severally of excellent use, whe- 
ther in imparting strong consolation on the one hand, 
or disarming the fierceness of hostility on the other. 
It is thus the converted can easily bear reproaches 
when their hearts are right with God, and their hope 
is in heaven; whilst the beauty of their conduct, 
undeniable even to the wicked — their meek and for- 
giving temper, their piety, and glowing benevolence, 
tend to disarm the serpent, and charm the venomous 
foe into a friend; even as it is alleged that the wild- 
est of the brute creation are sometimes overawed by 
the face of a man because he bears the image of his 
Maker. It is thus that the truly enlightened cause 
their light to shine before others, and lead them to 
glorify their Father in heaven ; it is thus that, being 
themselves blessed, they prove a blessing by increas- 
ing the amount of godliness and felicity in the world. 

But the terrible lot of thousands in our land is, 
that they come in contact with no examples of this 
renovating light. They have no inward, and neither 



hear nor see the outward testimony of which we have 
spoken. On this account we hail the following 
pubUcation. It may, by the care of some Christian 
friend, find its way into the midst of throngs who 
sit in darkness and the shadow of death — where no 
spark of spiritual life has ever been kindled — where 
no word of God is heard, and no conscience is awake — 
where sin deceitfully conceals his sting, and by com- 
mon consent no one ever speaks to his neighbour of 
a judgment to come — where the great adversary, 
having silenced every foe, reigns in a dreadful soli- 
tude, which his votaries mistake for peace. But 
death is there and misery too. Neither Satan nor 
all the hosts of wicked men can change the mind of 
the Eternal, or break down those constitutional laws 
by which his providence is conducted. He has 
fixed the bond betwixt misery and sin; and it is held 
by a Gordian knot which no art no sword can loose 
or dissever. Carnal propensities, with nothing to 
check, nothing to elevate, will, as sure as a stone 
falls^ work their groveling way. Hence sloth and 
drunkenness, poverty and filth, blasphemy and dis- 
cord, fill up the brief space which creatures without 
God have but once to live, and then leave them at 
the close of life to look into a dark eternity. Within 
such a realm of dreariness and woe, this little book 
may corne and find its way to a dying bed. There, 
whilst a deceitful peace will no longer prevail, and 
the eye of the soul wanders amidst the terrors of an 
unknown futurity, this volume, bright with heavenly 
hopes, will tell what the Lord has done for its author, 
and what he is willing to do for all. There is mercy 
even to the chief of sinners. " The blood of Christ 
a2 



elcanscth from all sin." " No man," says the Saviour, 
Cometh unto the Father but by me." " Him that 
comcth I will in nowise cast out." " Come unto me, 
all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will 
give you rest." " Seek ye the Lord when he may 
be found, call ye upon him while he is near. Let 
the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man 
his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord, and 
he will have mercy upon him, and unto our God, for 
he will abundantly pardon." How joyfully, as an 
angel visit, will such a messenger of grace be hailed 
by the weary and benighted whose feet are stumbling 
on the dark mountains. This memoir has a real 
aptitude, not indeed to our natural desires, but to the 
absolute wants of our nature. These wants, how- 
ever unheeded or unseen, are yet certain; and if 
death seem to be nigh, and the question occur, what 
shall become of my soul, there will be an earnest 
purpose to enquire how it fared with another in the 
like case, — what comfort was sought, and whence it 
came ; how imparted, and what griefs it healed. And 
best of all will the tale be told by one who has been 
in the furnace of affliction, and records her soul's expe- 
rience, both under the bitterness of sin and the balm 
of consolation. It is not the question, what book, 
what friend may be enquired for, but who or what 
will best suit the exigencies of the sufferer. 

And it is in this very thing that we find a mis- 
take not less prevalent than it is perverse; and cleav- 
ing to those from whose learning or from whose love 
an advice, if not more pious, at least more reasonable, 
might be expected. In the case of consumptive 
patients, there is a gentle delusion which very com- 



XI 



monly attends the pathway of the dying. The in- 
terrogatory of maternal soUcitudc is met from day to 
day with the smile of an amiable temper and the 
encouraging reply, " I feel better — I have no pain — 
I shall be quite well when I get rid of this cough." 
But well does the mother know that the disease is 
daily creeping nearer the heart, and approaching a 
fatal termination ; and well is the physician aware 
that the preying malady will baffle all his skill, and 
that he can do no more than smooth the pillow of his 
lovely patient, and modify the assaults of the last 
enemy. In these circumstances what is the wonted 
prescription for the soul of the sufferer? Light 
reading — the romance, the novel — and cheerful con- 
versation. This in too many instances comes in 
perfect unison with the aims and tender care of pa- 
rental affection. A minister's visits might alarm, a 
serious book might cast a cloud over the prospect of 
returning spring and opening flowers ; and any hints 
about the uncertainty of life, affliction as a season to 
be improved, the love of a heavenly Father, and of 
that Friend who sticketh closer than a brother, 
must be carefully shunned, lest the delusive hope 
which nature kindly supplies should be in aught di- 
minished and lose its animating charm. Yea, and 
does the wisest counsellor of the family, together 
with the nearest and dearest of kindred, conspire to 
aid a delusion, and say. We will carry the beloved 
child so deceived to the verge of life; and if there 
be any sorrow or darkness then, we shall not hear 
of it ; for there will be no remaining strength to 
complain of our perfidy? O this is not the part of a 
friend, still less of a parent; it is not the part of 



Christian parents, whose main care it should be to 
win the souls of their offspring to Jesus, and whose 
vow in their early baptism it was,' to train them up 
in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. 

But moreover, we do on sure and known ground 
assert the absolute futility of the delusive scheme: 
it is vain as it is perverse : it has not in reality the 
success it is ima<:ined to have. There is an extreme 
sensibility and fineness of affection common to those 
frames that labour luuler a consumptive disorder : 
altogether opposite to the gloom and peevishness ol 
certain diseases which are less deadly and seated in a 
different organ. The amiable patient feels a deli- 
cacy in speaking of any apprehensions, lest pain should 
be inflicted on those that are near and dear. But 
such apprehensions are ; and in the various alterna- 
tions of better and worse, they do, though untold, 
not unfrequently recur, and with increasingacuteness, 
in spite of all the delusive hopes to which reUef from 
pain and acceleration of the pulse may give rise. If 
this be a fact of the case, why does the physician not 
know it ? He is indeed the physician of the body ; 
but of the body as united with and affected by the 
immortal mind, whose thoughts and emotions he is 
unable to control; and if he have no specific for giv- 
ing peace to the undying spirit, it is unwise, on the 
authority of his pathological skill, to forbid the 
visitations of spiritual advisers, who may be instru- 
mental in plucking the sting from that death which 
he cannot avert ; in quieting those fears which he 
cannot allay; in diffusing a tranquility more sub- 
stantial than any opiate can produce; in filling the 
heart with the peace which passeth knowledge, and 



fixing the hope, not on the problematical sight of 
vernal flowers, but on the sure and unfading blos- 
soms, the blessed and ever-enduring fruits of the 
paradise above. 

The following result of a conversation with a dying 
youth, and which few will find contradicted under the 
like circumstances, may serve to illustrate the vanity 
of a scheme whose end is the maintenance of delusive 
hope, by means of Hght reading and flattering words ; 
and if the statement of a result so general, do not 
correct the erring counsel of the learned, it may at 
least induce some parents to take a wiser course, for 
their own comfort, and the welfare of their offspring 
in the time of trouble. Let me premise that I am 
no despiser of physicians. On the contrary, admir- 
ing their science and reffardinij them as an ordinance 
of God for good to man, it is my wont on all needful 
occasions to admonish that they be not only promptly 
consulted but strictly obeyed. Personally I owe 
much to certain of that enlightened body both for 
successful skill and the sweets of a lasting friendship ; 
and what I contend for is, that being a friend to their 
calling, they ought to be no enemy to mine. If the 
medical practitioner be himself devoid of piety, and a 
stranger to the love of God in Christ, it is not to be 
wondered at that he should reckon it no loss though 
all discourse of such themes be excluded from the 
hearts of his patients. But when he employs his 
professional authority to prohibit ministerial visita- 
tion and recommend such reading only as may serve 
to amuse, it will be found that he is not more at 
fault with regard to piety than mental philosophy. 
Intent on the business of hfe, and viewing death at 



XIV 



3 distance from himself, he is perhaps little troubled 
with that concern which necessarily belongs to a 
nearer sight of the last enemy. But let him sup- 
pose that death were as nigh to him, as he sees it is 
to certain sufferers under his care ; and then enquire 
if that would be nothing in his own case. But has 
he ascertained that, with all tlic natural love of life, 
and arts employed for maintaining a worldly hope, 
his patients have such confidence in his prescrip- 
tions, as to suffer no fears of a crisis that may soon 
close their eyes on the things of time ? He is much 
mistaken if he imagines that he has, and if he has not, 
ho ought to consider well that compound of soul and 
body with which he has to do; and if there be a 
multitude of thoughts within — a fearful looking for 
of judgment — which he can neither pacify nor expel, 
iie ought not to forbid the use of other medicines 
than his own, or ignorantly prescribe, as if he were 
dealing singly with the l)odily frame, or with a mind 
within whose vision there are no traces of a world to 
come. He would do well also to enquire, whether, 
on account of the pressing concerns of eternity, there 
be not felt a sovereign disgust at that triflinji which 
would treat with heavy cares as though they were 
but insects to be wafted away %vith a fan; and whe- 
ther the novel or romance does not of necessity lose 
its charm when the bond of sympathy betwixt the 
subject and the reader is dissolved ; when his fancy 
dwells on other scenes, and those which the volume 
presents to his view serve, either from their allure- 
ments to sharpen his regret, or from their levity to 
inflict a loathing upon his soul. 

But these arguments may be strengthened by 



the result of the conversation to which 1 have alluded. 
The dying youth was much set on the engrafting of 
trees; and the season for that operation was yet a 
long way distant. It made ray heart hlecd when I 
beheld his sparkling eye and glowing cheek, to think 
of the change that was likely to intervene betwixt 
November and the rising of the sap. The love he 
had to a newplanted garden brightened his prospects 
so long as his thoughts were permitted to flow in 
that direction; but the frequent recurrence of the 
most troublesome symptom of his disorder would 
check the current of his ideas, and turn it into an 
opposite channel. Then, in a lower tone, he would 
mingle his hopes of grafting with cautionary reflec- 
tions on the uncertainty of life, and would question 
himself whether he might live till such a day, and 
engage in such an avocation. Such alternation, we 
apprehend, and not, as is commonly supposed, a 
path of unclouded hope, is the common way of the 
consumptive malady. Hopes and fears are blended; 
but chiefly the hopes are made known to the family, 
the fears are rather told to some other friend. Yet 
hope is wonderfully enduring, and however affecting 
it may be to see nature cherish what in the end will 
prove abortive, it is withal kindly done. As, when 
a bodily habit must be altered, it is necessary that 
the change be accomplished slowly, in order that all 
the parts affected by the process may, gradually and 
without violence, accommodate themselves to the new 
arrangement ; so in the mental habits, when a state 
of cleaving to the dust must be changed for one of 
readiness to leave the world, nature, by adopting the 
like slowness, shows the like tenderness of hand. 



She does not of a sudden sunder all the ties of an 
earthly attachment, in the manner of a green tree, 
whose roots are wrenched when it is overthrown by 
the tempest; but she gives rise at first to certain 
fears, which mingle with the worldly hopes, like de- 
caying fibres amongst the living ; whilst the one class 
is on the increase the other gradually declines; till 
life comes gently down like the loosened tree, when 
it seems good to be delivered from its insecurity. 
To this kindness of nature's hand there is a perfect 
accommodation in the provisions of Divine grace. 
For every tie that is dissolved ou earth there is one 
more firmly established in heaven ; the progress of 
decay in the lower world is the progress of growth 
and hopeful blossom in the heavenly paradise ; and 
the moment of falling is also the fullness of prepara- 
tion for the blessedness of the dead that die in the 
Lord. In God's work and way perfection is abso- 
lute — not perceivable by us in parts, but for the most 
part demonstrable in plan. In the believer's life, all 
currents serve either to hasten or sweeten the desired 
haven, and the day of his death is better unto him 
than the day of his birth. But in man's way there 
is a fault in prospect, and a fault in the end ; for 
when he beholds the swiftness of the day he makes no 
provision for the night; and the dawn of birth, with 
its buoyant hopes, is changed for the darkness of the 
grave, with a burden of sin, and fears of retribution. 
What then will the medical adviser say to such a 
theory of life and death ? Is it wise at once to 
counteract the kindness of nature and the riches of 
Divine grace? The kindness of a slow decay has 
for its object not to protract a feeble life, but to gain 



XVll 



a ripeness for one that is blissful and undecaying ; 
and in which progressive maturation there may be 
felt a joy more perfect, more exalted than the most 
exuberant health can afford. To commend light 
reading then, and discountenance the aid of spiritual 
advisers, is to counteract all this co-operative plan 
of providence and grace ; whilst yet it will fail to 
answer the end of maintaining a better flow of spirits, 
it will not hinder the approach of death, and is cal- 
culated only to rob the soul of. that which alone can 
soothe a lingering illness, and gladden the prospect 
of dissolution. How blessed, when dissolution comes, 
to have this confidence, " I am persuaded that neither 
death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor 
powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor 
height nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be 
able to separate us from the love of God which is in 
Christ Jesus our Lord." 

That the above scheme does not answer the end 
designed, may be seen from what follows; it being 
understood that the writer is describing what he 
knows to be very common in like cases. In the con- 
versation to which I have referred, I took the oppor- 
tunity, when alone with my dying friend, to suggest 
that as he was now confined to the house, he would 
have much leisure for reading, and made some inquiry 
as to the kind he preferred; stating at the same time, 
that I had known what sickness was, and that 
it was very common to recommend to those in a 
tedious illness only such reading as was fitted to 
amuse; but that I had made trial of novels, and found 
they had no good relish in a time of trouble. His 
reply, expressed with the utmost animation, was,. " I 



cannot endure the sight of them." This was spoken 
at a time when, as previously noticed, the current of" 
earthly hopes was set towards the engrafting of trees 
in spring ; and showed, what is generally true though 
not commonly supposed, that notwithstanding the 
sanguine hopes attendant on the malady in question, 
there are frequent and very serious fears, which, of 
course, give rise to a train of reflections the worst 
fitted to harmonise with the scenery of fictitious nar- 
ratives. The cordiality with which the afflicted 
youth expressed his dislike to that sort of reading 
afforded me the highest satisfaction : it exposed the 
flimsiness of the artificial scheme, usually resorted to, 
for sustaining the drooping spirits ; it opened the 
way to a more edifying converse, and to the mutual 
enjoyment of a free and frequent access hy prayer to 
a throne of grace. It soon became known to every 
member of the household, who all joined in giving 
as ready a welcome to the minister as to the physician ; 
and were well aware, whatever might be the issue of 
the existing trouble, that recourse to the way of 
pardon and peace by Jesus Christ could not by any 
means hasten the inroad of death — that what aug- 
mented the happiness of the sufferer could in nowise 
tend to shorten his days. I mentioned a book which 
in time of trouble had been of much service to 
myself, viz. Doddridge's Rise and Progress of Reli- 
gion in the Soul, and observed, that though it was 
a hard book to read at the first, yet it would grow 
every day more pleasant. Seeing he was well dis- 
posed to make the trial, I hastened to place that ex- 
cellent manual in his hands ; and his testimony, 
some time after, to the benefit he had derived, was. 



that he had read a portion every day, and read every 
word of the book: and that he had resolved, as the 
best thing he could do, in order to have a better ac- 
quaintance with its searching truth and spiritual com- 
fort, to begin at the beginning, and go over it all 
again, with the same care, and with the same appli- 
cation of its doctrine and prayers as he had done 
before. Mrs. Huntington, also, from an experi- 
mental sense of its value, was in like manner recom- 
mended; and, much to the youth's comfort and 
edification, was as devoutly perused. And it is fit 
here to remark, that the following memoir, of a 
kindred spirit, not then in existence, is a new trea- 
sure, exhibiting, in an experimental way, the beauti- 
ful provision and efficacy of Divine grace ; that it is 
worthy to be placed side by side with the work of 
Mrs. Huntington, to be recommended to readers in 
general, and especially calculated to afford the most 
seasonable instruction and consolation to the afflicted. 
The youth of whom I have spoken lived so long as 
really to show that he had derived substantial benefit 
from those devotional exercises, to which with be- 
coming earnestness he constantly applied his heart 
and mind. The Spirit of God evidently wrought 
with the divinely appointed means. The youth 
was not afflicted for nought; but found in the pearl 
of great price that strong consolation which is or- 
dained for those "who have fled for refuge to lay 
hold on the hope set before them." Nor can it be 
believed by any accountable creature, that the counsel 
which would have precluded ministerial visitation, 
lest it should have caused the spirits to droop, or 
would have sought to enliven the patient's hopes by 



XX 

flattering words and amusing books, could either have 
so sustained u Hngering iUness, or liave led to so 
hopeful a departure from this world of misery and 
sin. 

And having thus dealt candidly with what I can- 
not but deem an erring conduct in certain grades 
of the medical faculty, and which, alas ! is ever too 
ready to meet the approval of mere worldly friends, 
a few words may now, humbly, and with deepest 
sympathy, be addressed to those parents who are 
called in the providence of God to wait on a beloved 
son or daughter pining away under a malady 
so fatal and affecting. Be sure, in the first place, 
that there is no unfaithfulness in your heavenly Fa- 
ther, though he take away your dear child. He 
never gave you any promise that the boon he con- 
ferred was not rather lent than appropriated to you ; 
and that for a period as uncertain as it was limited. 
His word speaks of a time to be born, and a time to 
die; it makes no mention of a time to live. You 
have much anxiety to have your offspring well pro- 
vided in the world, but nothing can be more preca- 
rious, seeing how numerous are the temptations, 
how frequent the failures, and how changeable the 
lot of all. Let as much care be taken to secure the 
needful qualification for a place in the heavenly 
kingdom ; and having such an aim, this will be your 
rejoicing, that the way is far more open, and the 
success more sure. Strive earnestly, by word and 
prayer, to bring your children to know and love the 
Lord, who will lead his flock as a shepherd; who 
will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in 
his bosom. Have much reliance on that gracious 



promise, " I love them that love me, and they that 
seek me early shall find me." Are they given to 
Christ ? Surely they are safe in his keeping ; and 
if this be your confidence, it were an extraordinary 
thing to grudge the nursing of a child for heaven — 
so blissful to the departed, and to you so high an 
honour, so enduring a felicity. Then look to the 
love of God in the gift of his Son, and the sure 
word of the Saviour, that his grace shall be suffi- 
cient for you. The promise includes your children, 
all your time, and all your trials. Connect, then, 
in one view, the all-sufficient grace and the providence 
of God, in which he numbers the days of every one, 
and rules all things for his own glory, and the high- 
est good of his people. Providence and grace, then, 
are in the same Almighty hand, directed by the same 
unerring wisdom, and ever proceeding from the same 
fountain of inexhaustible love. It is, therefore, not 
to be conceived as possible, that any thing of God's 
own doing in providence can in any degree be con- 
trary to, or inconsistent with, the purposes of his grace. 
But God always knows one thing, that nearly 
concerns us, and which his people are not permit- 
ted to know — namely, the measure of their days. 
The times and the seasons are not in our hand. But 
if the grace be sufficient, so must be the time, whether 
the days be many or few ; and hence it is frequently 
seen, that in the same family, where the external ap- 
pliances are as much the same as may be, there accom- 
panies these equal means a marked and special blessing 
ni behalf of that child whose lot it is to be early 
removed. There is plainly to be seen in that one a 
peculiar graciousness of disposition, an uncommon 



xxu 



piety, a tenderness of conscience, dutifulness to 
parents, meekness in reproving, and kindness in 
admonishing brothers and sisters ; in short, a wonder- 
ful advancement in the divine life, and an evident 
ripeness for lieaven. Where such satisfying proofs 
of grace in the heart have appeared, they afford to 
the bereaved parents the sweetest recollections of the 
departed, and the richest of all consolation. Though 
stripped, the parents arc not poor ; they think much 
of their heavenly treasure, and live better in the hope 
of seeing it again. 

And now with regard to that fatal and prevalent 
malady, by which the subject of the following memoir 
was taken from the world, and which carries mourn- 
ing into so many families every year in our land, 
we would very affectionately suggest one or two 
considerations. If God gave no promise of the life 
of children, and may certainly take them away when 
he pleases, we would simply ask for the acknowledg- 
ment, that it is as well in that way as it is in any 
other. It wants that suddenness which is usually felt 
as the sorest of trials ; and in no way, perhaps, is the 
approach of death more gentle and easy — affording 
to the sufferer a warning to be laid to heart, and a sea- 
son of grace that may, by its fit improvement, be far 
more blessed than the longest period of health and 
prosperity ; whilst the parents, long fearing, and by 
and by growing sure of the issue, have the fairest 
opportunity of laying up a good foundation against 
the time that is to come, and of doing good to the 
soul of their beloved child. O let me, as a minister 
of the Gospel, and speaking from the heart, beseech 
you, who are so tried, to be altogether done with the 



xxni 



narrow policy, and the mistaken expediency of en- 
couraging a deceitful hope, on the ground of main- 
taining to the sufferer a better flow of spirits, and 
warding off the attacks of the disease. Nobody 
ever did die by hearing of the love of Christ, and the 
grace that bringeth salvation ; of the necessity of re- 
pentance, and the freeness of the Gospel invitation, 
so precious in the time of trouble. Surely there is 
in this no harsh, no killing sound ; and as to the flow 
of spirits, it will at times ebb very low indeed, in 
spite of all flattering speech, light reading, and lively 
conversation ; and if the spirits do not sink, still the 
disease works on its own way; and how will consolation, 
shunned at first, be sought at last, either by relatives 
or the dying ? Yet I would say, do not begin by 
naming the disease, or predicting its issue. As to 
the disease, there is no absolute certainty at the time 
when it is best to consult for the affairs of the soul ; 
as to the prediction, it is absolutely unlawful ; and 
even if the issue were certainly foreseen, there are far 
better motives for winning a soul to Christ than the 
terrors of approaching dissolution. Why not rather 
say, that all the time we have at the longest is not too 
long to devote to God, and gain a meetness for hea- 
ven ; that all afflictions are proofs that God is angry 
with sin, admonitions of an end to which all are has- 
tening, signs, that " This is not our rest:" and tokens 
of a heavenly Father's love, because " He chasteneth 
whom heloveth;"' and his chastisements are not for 
his pleasure, but our profit, that we, being exercised 
thereby, might bring forth the peaceful fruits of righ- 
teousness ? Why not speak of such a book as that to 
which we are prefixing these remarks, and say, Here 



XXIV 



is the experience of one who came through <2rcat 
trihulation, and, trusting in the Lord, was full of 
the hope that maketh not ashamed ; who, in tiie 
severest trials, drank deep of heavenly comfort, and 
was more blessed, actually far more happy, than tens 
of thousands who abound in all that the world can 
give. Is there any delicacy in reading the Bible 
by a sick-bed, and praying with and for an afflict- 
ed child ? Is it to be thought that this had better 
not be done for the fear of exciting apprehensions of 
death ? If this be your feeling, O parents, heads of 
a Christian household, I warn you, that your own day 
is coming ; and where will you find consolation when 
that day is come ? Where will you find it when you 
see the closing eye of a dear son or daughter, to whom 
with untiring love and many tears, you have dis- 
charged every duty, except that which concerned 
"the one thing needful"? One thing you will 
do, when your beloved child is gone, you will seek re- 
lief to your bursting hearts, by telling your friends 
every particular you can recall of the suffering, and 
all that was amiable of the dear one now no more. 
But whether you were mainly intent on the work of 
salvation or no ; of all the topics you will then handle, 
the principal one on which you will seek to fasten a 
sweet hope, and on which you will love the most 
to dilate, will be the evidence afforded by the deceased 
of a preparedness for that better world, where there 
shall be no more death, and no more pain. If such 
evidences be but faint, yet are they the chief delight 
that remains to the survivors ; and this shows how 
much higher that delight would be had those evi- 
dences been more clear ; and how desperately wrong 



XXV 



it is to make but little of tliem when life is spared, 
though their soul naturally cleaves to them as the only 
comfort when life is taken away. 

Make but a beginning, by speaking a word to the 
patient as to the warnings of trouble, and the fleet- 
ing tenure of life. Read a most comforting Psalm : 
" Like as a father pitieth his children ;" or a pro- 
phecy, " Comfort ye, comfort ye my people;" or a 
portion of the Gospel, " Let not your heart be 
troubled;" and pray for a blessing on the word read and 
heard ; enter into gentle and affectionate conversa- 
tion, and get but a word from the beloved sufferer 
that Christ is the only Physician of value, and that 
all is safe in his hand. Listantly the ice is broken, 
the barriers of a freezing and unseasonable delicacy 
are out of the way, and you have access, which you 
had not before, to the heart of your child ; there 
flows a free, a cordial, and mutual sympathy ; dis- 
trust and constraint give place to a gladdening confi- 
dence, and to a higher and holier affection, sanctified 
by prayer, strengthened by faith, and felt to be pure, 
heavenly, and immortal, by its mingling with Divine 
love. The well of salvation is now far more blissful 
both to the sympathising and to the afflicted. Ye 
sought it separately, and coming, as it were, by night, 
before the gaining of this mutual confidence, but 
now you meet together at it, as helpers of each 
other's joy, and find Him who is rich in mercy, and 
will say to both, " Fear not, for I am with thee ; 
be not dismayed, for I am thy God : I will strengthen 
thee ; yea, I will help thee ; yea, I will uphold thee 
with the right hand of my righteousness." 

Sure we are that, in these happier circumstances, 
B 63 



XXVI 



there will be felt no difficulty in commendinj,' to the 
sufferer's perusal the pious and instructive memoir 
we have now before us. It is a genuine instance of 
the converting and saving efficacy of Divine grace ; 
a faithful delineation of the writer's experience un- 
der every struggle betwixt the powers of darkness 
and light; of her state and feelings at every step in 
her progress, from the natural and unresisted domi- 
nion of sin, to the rejoicing submission of a renewed 
heart, under the known and acknowledged supremacy 
of the Prince of Peace. Her's was no death-bed 
repentance — no sudden conversion — no cxtacy of a 
new and ever-unclouded li'dit ; but the work of the 
Spirit, in her faith and hope, was in a way that wc 
believe to be more wonted, and best known to be of 
God — a way in which the Divine working is gradual 
and progressive, in which the ordinary means of word 
and prayer, the Sabbath and the sanctuary, have 
their due place, their diligent use, and their marked 
effects ; and one, therefore, which is more instructive, 
and from which all who peruse the narrative of its 
procedure may take to themselves the most encour- 
aging hopes and practical lessons. And as we have 
shown that the enlightening and renovating work of 
God is accompanied by a twofold witness; there will 
be found no want of either in the case before us. 
Her own consciousness is the inward test of the change 
produced, and of the joy which it imparted. And if 
she make a declaration to that effect, supported by 
the concurrent testimony of an amiable and praise- 
worthy character, maintained with steadfastness un- 
der various trials up to the point of death, and in the 
belief of a near and searching judgment ; then we say, 



XXVll 



such a witness is unquestionably wortliy of all credit. 
So far as the inward testimony is concerned, we have 
ffood evidence that in the following memoir is recorded 
a genuine instance of the enlightening and saving 
power of Divine truth ; whilst no reader, we are 
persuaded, will fail to discover, that that gracious 
work has all the outward attestations that can rea- 
sonably be required. The simple and modest ac- 
count of the effects which the living word produced 
on the subject of the memoir herself, is completely 
satisfactory; and the compiler of the narrative finds 
no want of other witnesses in the unanimous and 
cordial declaration of many faithful friends, who, 
during her life, enjoyed her intimate acquaintance, 
and since her decease have clearly sha*vn that the 
light which was saving to her soul, 'Ud also 
shine forth in all the virtues and graces which adorn 
the doctrine of God our Saviour. As a daughter, 
sister, instructor, and friend, so dutiful and affec- 
tionate was her whole deportment, that all connected 
with her, by one or other of those ties, derived both 
profit and delight from her conversation and corres- 
pondence. As a guardian of the young, breathing 
into their hearts the love that reigned in her -own, 
she was eminently successful in winning their souls 
to Christ, and leading them, by the power of her 
example, and gentleness of admonition, to keep the 
way of the Lord. As a wife, her trials, which were 
severe, were of brief duration. Previous to her 
marriage, threatenings of a pulmonary kind had be- 
gun to appear; and these, after the conjugal and 
parental ties had entwined her heart, recurred with 
a more serious violence, and terminated fatally in a 



XXVIU 



few vears. As the female head of a Christian 
Iiousehold, she began well, by endeavouring habitu- 
ally to realise the importance of such an example as 
might recommend to all the members of her family 
the religion of Jesus, and bring them under the ex- 
perience of its transforming power and heavenly con- 
solations. It was her delight to contemplate a 
family on earth, as an emblem, though faint, of the 
family of the redeemed in heaven. And when we 
consider how certainly the grace of God does always 
prosper such heavenly desires and steadfast aims, 
there can be no doubt that, through those means, 
which she had learned no less devoutly to appreciate 
than diligently to employ, she would have exhibit- 
ed, had life been prolonged, every matronly grace 
in her domestic economy — have proved a crown to her 
husband, and a blessing to her children, as well as 
an ornament to the church. But God's ways are 
not our ways ; and it softens, if it do not explain, 
the mysterious blow that cuts down the promise of a 
oracious fruitfulness, to be assured, that " precious 
in the Lord's sight is the death of his saints." 

When we contemplate the weight and number of 
those trials that crowded into the closing scene of this 
sufferer's life : her physician recommending a change 
of air — a prescription that, with doubtful advantage, 
involved a sad exile from her husband and home; 
the parting kiss of children in their playful mood, 
which strangely contrasted with a mother's grief; 
the narrowing of life's prospects, just when its joys 
were expanding with new endearments ; the sickness 
of frame that encountered the fatigues and perils of 
a journey ; and the sickness of heart that had to for- 



XXIX 



sake sweet home, and that garden of the soul, whose 
brifrhtest roses and liHes are tender and beloved 
babes ; the fear of those rude blasts that may beat 
upon such sweet flowers in the absence of a mother's 
fostcrincr care ; — when we view these sharp and nu- 
merous trials, and find that amidst them all, the gen- 
tle sulBPerer breathes not a murmur, but possesses her 
soul in patience, and looks well pleased on all that 
the Lord has done ; saying, though he slay me, yet 
will I trust in him, and reckoning that the present 
affliction, being but for a moment, is light, and not 
to be compared with the glory that shall be re- 
vealed hereafter : — then have we an experimental 
test of the preciousness of the Gospel — a proof, that 
as sure as it manifests its transforming power, its 
blessedness will appear in all the abundance of its 
heavenly consolations. 

It is therefore with great confidence, and good rea- 
son, that we recommend this precious manual as a friend 
and companion to the sick. Beyond all doubt the 
afflicted, into whose hands it may fall, will be dis- 
posed, if once they are moved with a concern for 
their souls, to peruse it with deep attention, and per- 
sonal application. They will be led to acknowledge, 
that it brings under their review, a series of suffer- 
ings, as hard as any which they have been called to 
endure. They will see at the same time, that the 
subject of this memoir met her trials with a bosom 
calm as the unruffled lake, and brightened with the 
sun-light of hope ; that the scene of her suffering 
was one of beauty and serenity, full of joy and peace 
in believing; and affording at once apreparation for, and 
a foretaste of the blessedness of the heavenly Para- 



XXX 



disc. And tlie inference drawn by the reader will be, 
why may not I, in the like troubles, arrive at the like 
peace? " The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow 
to anger, and plenteous in mercy. Like as a father 
piticth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that 
fear him. For he knowcth our frame, and remem- 
bereth that we are dust. As for man, his days are 
as grass ; as a flower of the field, so he flourisheth. 
For the wind passcth over it and it is gone ; and the 
place thereof shall know it no more. But the mercy 
of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon 
them that fear him, and his righteousness unto chil- 
dren's children ; to such as keep his covenant, and ta 
those that remember his commandments to do them. 
He hath not dealt with us after our sins, nor re- 
warded us according to our iniquities. For as the 
heaven is high above the earth, so great is his morcy 
toward them that fear him. As far as the east is 
from the west, so far hath he removed our transgres- 
sions from us." The blood of Christ cleanseth from 
all sin. He is able to save to the uttermost all that 
come unto God by him. There is mercy even to 
the chief of sinners. I cannot be worse than the 
chief: there is mercy therefore even for me. The 
Lord will be a refuge in times of trouble. I flee to 
him for succour. " The Lord haih chastened me 
sore, but he hath not given me over unto death. 
The Lord is my strength and song, and is become 
my salvation. I am poor and needy, but the Lord 
thinkcth upon me: thou art my help and my deli- 
verer ; make no tarrying, O my God." 

The afflicted reader, finding sucli comfort in the 
grace of the Gospel, will find also that the following 



XXXI 

narrative, as it records the experience of a tried be- 
liever, is an excellent help whether in searching the 
heart, or leading the way to peace in believing. In 
this volume it is well proved that the chastisements of 
a heavenly Father arc not for his pleasure, but for 
his children's profit; and that he makes all things, 
however diverse in themselves, or contrary to our 
natural will, to work together for good to them that 
love God, and are the called according to his purpose. 
And seeing this is God's way, no sight in this world 
is more distressing than that of an afflicted soul and 
body, enduring all the ills of pain and anguish, and 
getting no good; whether in the way of present 
comfort, or of preparation for an approaching change. 
This, alas, is too frequently the way of meu ; but it 
has no part in the counsel of God, who does nothing 
in vain ; and our hope is, that the reader of this vo- 
lume will seek the good that God designs, and find 
it, in such way as it was sought and found by the 
subject of this memoir. Then will the sufferer be 
Jed to exclaim, The Lord is faithful in his corrections. 
He chasteneth whom he loveth, and scourgeth every 
son whom he receiveth. This affliction is sent to 
show me that the world is not my rest, and can be 
no portion for my immortal soul. It is sent to sepa- 
rate betwixt me and my idols, that my heart may be 
given wholly to him, who died that I might live. 
Then will the devoted heart find instantly a new 
occupation — one that will engage, but not oppress ; 
and for which there is no diminution of strength by 
the decay of the outward man. It is a work which 
the Spirit of grace supplies and delights to prosper, 
working in the soul both to will and to do of God's 



XXXll 



good pleasure. There is then no time for murmurs, 
no place for regrets. Impatience gives way to a holy 
resignation; and expressions of gratitude, spoken with 
a placid temper, reward every office of kindness which 
the hand of friendship performs. Praise of the 
Lord's goodness is heard in every word ; a cheerful 
light is diffused over the scenery of the sick room ; 
and hope abounding by the power of the Holy Ghost, 
is a good earnest that no darkness will be encoun- 
tered in the valley and shadow of death. 

Such happy results, arising from the improvement 
of affliction, are as dear-bought treasure most de- 
voutly to be prized. How dreadful a thing it is 
that suffering should in any case be endured in vain 
— that a special dealing of Providence should either 
prove fruitless, or only serve to harden the heart ; 
but infinitely terrible is that hardening effect when 
it accompanies the suffering that shall be unto death. 
To avoid this worst and promote the best results, we 
recommend the manual before us as a worthy friend, 
and we are sure also a welcome companion, to the 
afflicted. Being dead this pious disciple yet speak- 
eth, and her speech is just of a kind the surest to 
gain a willing ear. It breathes the charm of sym- 
pathy ; is rich in the lore of a gracious experience, 
and confidently leads the way to the blessedness that 
may be found under a heavenly Father's corrections. 

Nothing is so much wanted in a companion to the 
sick, as the heart that has learned by the like trou- 
bles to sympathise with the sufferer. Away from 
the bed of languishing with that robust frame, in 
whose aspect there is no tenderness, whose hopes 
and joys spring only from the earth, and in whose 



xxxm 

language there is no seasoning of grace. Such a 
one has nothin<r in common with the condition of the 
dying ; and every thing in his demeanour proves that 
lie is devoid of that sympathy which is the dearest 
and strongest tie of friendly communion. If words 
of good cheer are uttered by such a mouth, they are 
offensive by their vulgarity, or they excite a suspi- 
cion that cither they have no sincerity, or are spoken 
with a slight knowledge of those troubles which they 
attempt to soothe. A right fellow-feeling therefore 
is the first ingredient of a cordial and beneficial in- 
tercourse. As the light-hearted, who are given only 
to the pleasures of life, have no patience with the 
serious and godly; so neither can the latter endure the 
mirth of those whose lausrhter is like the cracklincj of 
thorns. Whom will a Rachel, bewailing her children 
because they are not, choose as the companion of 
her sorrows ? not the youthful and the gay, who are 
yet untried in the furnace of affliction, but one whose 
softened heart is ready to melt with her own, and 
who, mourning the like bereavement, may help the 
parched eye to find relief in tears. And what friend 
would Paul have selected in his spiritual bitterness, 
when he exclaimed, " O wretched man that I am, 
who shall deliver me from the body of this death ?" 
Surely not the man who was dwelling at ease in Zion, 
conscious of his irapenitency, satisfied with a worldly 
portion, and regardless alike of the iniquities of his 
conduct, and of the wrath which he incurred ; but 
he would have sought as the partner of his heaven- 
ward complaining, one in whom the Spirit of God 
had wrought the like conviction of sin, and who in 
the like anguish of soul would seek a refuge in the 
b2 



XXXIV 

Saviour's love; that being partakers togctlicr in tlie 
like grief, tliey might be helpers of each other's joy. 
Such a friend in trouble will be found in the sym- 
pathy and faithfulness of this volume. Precious for 
its truth, lively as the language of the heart, and 
embalmed with Christian love ; it will live, untouched 
by age and subject to no disease ; will continue those 
works of charity in which the authoress was marred 
by pain and death ; will speak as she did, and sym- 
pathising with the sick, will enlighten their ignorance, 
soothe their sorrows, and direct their hopes to the 
paradise in which she dwells. In such a companion, 
the afflicted reader will fear no want of that know- 
ledge of suffering which softens the heart and fits the 
soul for sympathy with the distressed. 

Mrs. Taylor knew what it was to endure the 
languor of disease, to look to an early grave in which 
to deposit life's bloom ; and in such a prospect she 
had for a time to exclaim, " But the wounded spirit 
who can bear?" Dear reader, in thy sorrows and 
fears I commend this record of a sister's Christian 
experience, for aid to thy meditations and encourage- 
ment to thy hopes. The teaching of the divine 
Spirit, which she devoutly sought; the peace-speak- 
ing blood of the Lamb, in which she found a blessed 
rest from all her fears ; and the sanctifying power of 
the word, by which she improved in every grace, and 
grew in mcetness for the inheritance of the saints in 
light ; will by the grace of that same Lord who is 
good to all and rich in mercy, be imparted as freely 
to thee ; and, given in abundance beyond thy re- 
quest, will sweeten thy affliction, and kindle in thy 
soul that glorious hope which will be changed only 
for the possession of things seen and eternal. 



XXXV 



Such the worth of this little work and the valu- 
able service it may render to the sick ; but not to 
them only do we earnestly commend it. For all 
flesh is grass, and, " All souls are mine," saith the 
Lord, " as the soul of the father so also the soul of 
the son is mine : the soul that sinneth, it shall die." 
All have sinned : sickness and death are nigh ; and 
what need have all, sick or well, to consult for the 
things which belong to their peace before they be 
for ever hid from their eyes. What shall it profit a 
man should he ffain the whole world and lose his 
own soul? 

Woe to that teaching of the young which respects 
no more than their temporal weal. What if it be 
the will of their Creator to take them away in the 
midst of their pursuits and from all the ends to which 
their partial and ill-judged training was adjusted .'' 
Then, in the sadness of a ruined scheme, it will too 
late be discovered that their most needful light is 
unprovided, whilst their provided light will be needed 
no more. Let the woe rest with parental injustice : 
our weeping is for the offspring so unwisely and 
wickedly neglected. What a precious monitor to 
better things might this little volume prove, whether 
in the family, the closet, or the school. It is a grie- 
vous wrong not to acquaint our dear children with 
God as their Father, Christ as their brother, and 
heaven as their home. And what is the poor and 
frequent substitute for attainments so high ? Why 
merely the way of getting other glory, of possessing a 
worldly portion. And yet it is known of such a 
portion that it may be as void and evanescent as the 
bubble that floats on the stream ; but allowing it to 



XXXV 1 



be the largest and most lasting that the sanguine 
imagination would have it; there is still impressively 
written upon it a lesson of its vanity which the 
blindest can hardly fail to peruse: namely, that how- 
ever noble the possession, it is all laid within the 
precincts of time; and consequently it is so spoiled 
or diminished by the lapse of every day, as to be 
obviously all the while growing less and less, and 
hastening to a summary conclusion; when, like the 
evaporation of the last flake of a snow-wreath, it shall 
be absolutely gone. For whether it be the matter 
of fortune, or the time in which it can be held, that 
suffers such wear and diminution even to the verffe 
of nothingness, is really all one to the immortal soul 
of the owner, whose all, both for time and for eternity, 
that temporary portion is. 

We do not say that a soul was ever converted by 
reason alone ; but neither is it to be supposed that rea- 
son is of no use in such a cause. Many have been 
led to seek after better things from a conviction of this 
world's vanity. And if reason might help so influ- 
ential a conviction, here is certainly one of her clear- 
est indications: what can more powerfully appeal to 
a man's business and bosom than the certain fact 
that the only treasure he cares for will leave him empty 
when the longest part of his being is about to begin ? 
This strongest of reasons, whilst it is yet the least in- 
fluential with rational and immortal creatures, is indeed 
clear proof of their fallen condition, in which they 
grovel with the whole mind so perverted, and views 
so dark, as to place the gaycty and glitter of the 
world in paramount grandeur, and regard the king- 
doms and crowns of eternity as lower than the dust. 



If this consideration do not lead the soul to seek after 
God, it may serve to fix on the conscience a deeper 
conviction of sin, and disturb the peace of those pos- 
sessions that come to nought. 

But that prevailing error of our species which ex- 
pects sufficiency in a worldly portion and consequently 
treats religion with contempt, has more of evil in it 
than the mere emptiness to which it leads. It is not 
only that the worldly portion, being a compound of 
time and substance, must of necessity grow less and 
less till it end in nothing ; — not only is the lot becom- 
ing worse and worse, through the weakness of age and 
the approach of death, but of all the boon of life, on 
such a plan, the end is the worst ; — an end not merely 
of want but of woe — death foreseen, but unprovided 
for — a conscience loaded with guilt, and a mind filled 
with the terrors of dissolution. Then, how over- 
whelming are the interests which await the traveller 
at the end of his journey; when certain questions, 
new indeed, but having no charm in their novelty, 
will be urged with a solemnity as dreadful as it is ill- 
timed ; — Whither have I come ? and whither bound ? 
To what purpose have I lived ? who gave, and what 
account shall I render to the Giver of my life ? Into 
that moment of space are crowded all the interests of 
the past ; but ah ! it has yet a heavier load ; for on 
the head of that same moment are heaped the hitherto 
unweighed and immeasurable amount of cares for the 
great eternity. What a step is before me ! how 
dark and how profound! and that step once taken, 
what shall the effect be to my undying spirit and its 
never-ending time? Well may we say woe to the 
Reaching of men ! that takes such large account of 



XXXVUl 



the life that is but a vapour, and reckons as nothing 
tlie great and the enduring rcaUties of a world to 
come; though of those reaHties there is all the while 
an unhesitating belief; and it is known, they will 
insist upon being weighed, at a time when the view 
of their importance will only add to the terrors of 
death and do no jjood. 

But well do we know that worldly men for them- 
selves, and worldly parents for their children, will 
seek only a worldly portion ; and, regardless of reli- 
gion, will show no favour to such a volume as the 
one before us — yet would we venture, on the ground 
of such sense as is common to all men, of such irre- 
sistible reason as we have on our side, and of such 
known facts of our common nature as every living 
soul is compelled to acknowledge ; — on such grounds 
we would venture, by the grace of God, to lead the 
votaries of this world's fashion to confess — if they 
cannot love such an example as that of Mrs. Taylor, 
or prefer one as pious to take the guardianship of 
their children, — to confess, we say, that there is 
something notoriously defective in their own scheme. 
Think of that weighing of eternity near death ; and 
a plan of life so conducted that all the way throughout 
it is judged for certain that the last must be the worst. 
O I cannot believe that this is like any wisdom pro- 
per to a rational being. It must be the fruit of de- 
lusion — the device of an enemy and destroyer. I 
cannot believe that a God of love would have it so — 
that he would have the end of whatever boon he 
gave to be worse than the beginning. He obviously 
delights in, and plans that sort of progression, in 
which from a less to a greater degree of capacity, 



XXXIX 

tliere is a collateral increase in the measure of that 
enjoyment which he imparts to his children. They 
that are " the children of God by faith in Ciirist 
Jesus," grow in grace ; they go on from strength to 
strength, till they appear before him perfect in Zion. 
How unlike is this to the wisdom of man in the 
choice of a lot which in his worldly way grows worse 
and worse and ends in horror. And how delightful 
to perceive that there is an amazing depth of wisdom, 
and love even in what wc can comprehend of God's 
way, and of his great salvation. The end of his 
days to the believer in Christ is not the worst but 
the best of all he has experienced in life. The day 
of his death is better unto him than the day of his 
birth. His heart and treasure are in heaven ; and 
if he be weary and the day far spent, he is nearer 
home. If there be trials from weakness, pain, and 
spiritual foes, he finds that " tribulation worketh pa- 
tience; and patience experience; and experience 
hope; and hope maketh not ashamed, because the 
love of God is shed abroad in his heart by the Holy 
Ghost." This hope death cannot darken, and in 
the valley of death he has no fear, trusting in the 
promise, " My presence shall go with thee and I 
will give thee rest." Comforted with the comforts 
of God, and sanctified through the truth, he still 
waits upon the Lord in the ordinances of word and 
prayer ; and thus renewing his strength he is filled 
with the blessed assurance, that when his change 
comes it will be great gain. The Lord hath sanc- 
tified the grave as a place of rest, and so giveth he 
his beloved sleep. To the soul so purified, so united 
to Christ, and longing to be with him, there is no- 



xl 

thiiifT in the notion of a grave that is cither dark or 
unlovely. But rather, as at the close of day it is 
pleasant to lie down when the discharge of laborious 
duty has produced fatigue, and an overpowering ap- 
petite for sleep : so, at the close of life, when lassi- 
tude is proportioned to the years of toil, and exhausted 
nature intensely desires that repose which the couch 
can no longer supply, then, to the soul prepared for 
its heavenly home, the grave appears the only proper 
and sufficient rest — then is it stript of all its attributes 
of wonted dread ; and never was the softest bed more 
welcome to a weary man at the going down of the 
sun. 

O would they who live only for the things of time, 
and have no part in the blessedness of the dead that 
die in the Lord, take to themselves one moment of 
serious thought, and granting that there is an eter- 
nity, what could they plead in defence of living as 
their own most unreasonable and relentless enemies? 
But being unable to defend their way, it is their rule 
to avoid all views of futurity, or rather, not to think 
at all. In such circumstances, were the question 
propounded to those of either sex who, in their youth, 
are parading the proudest pathway of fashion, whether 
the grave has ever appeared in any gentleness of 
aspect to them ? The answer in all probability 
would be a laugh of scorn or look of indignation for 
the merciless obtrusion. Yet might it be easy to 
show, that though the grave seem hateful, many of 
their follies are hurrying their steps directly thither; 
and they might find no way of shunning the conviction, 
that in the prime of manhood they are crushed before 
the moth ; that death will not be deterred by their 



xli 

gayety, nor the worm by their beauty; nor will the 
silence and darkness of the grave be cheered either 
by their mirth or the lustre of their robes. And 
would it be too much to sugjTcst a query as to the 
place their Creator and Redeemer holds in their 
hearts ? Waiving any allusion to the profaning of 
God's name, his Sabbath, his sanctuary and his Holy 
Word, or to evil thoughts, which would create a 
blush were they clothed in words, and shown to 
fellow sinners; or to impure conversation, an abhor- 
rence to Him who hath said, Be ye holy, for I am 
holy; waiving these, will it seem a small thing that 
He who loved us, and gave himself for us, and washed 
us from our sins in his own blood, should be told 
that his name is of little estimation in their eyes; 
that the eod of this world is kinir of their hearts, 
and is alone courted for the smiles of his favour and 
feared for the frown of his displeasure? 

Can conscience, not utterly seared — reason, not 
wholly extinguished — or feelings of personal interest, 
not absolutely deadened, endure such thoughts for a 
moment; or think of its sinfulness without seeking 
for the soul some way of safety and peace? Can I 
look on the face of nature, and not learn that mammon 
cannot be nature's God; that he is not the God that 
made me a living soul, in whom I live, and with 
whom I have to do? And if I live devoted to an 
idol, and despise salvation, and yet may die in a day 
or an hour when I think not, and that day or hour 
just when the Divine patience will wait no longer; 
surely it will then be a fearful thing to fall into the 
hands of the livinjj God. What cause then to dread 
this engrossing, soul-destroying, and yet apparently 



xlii 

harmless idolatry. Harmless it seems, because it 
goes so much with the heart, and offers no violence 
to public morals ; because so many worshippers pro- 
ceed in one way, and all smile to one another as they 
go; and because this worship in modern times 
modestly foregoes the honour of a temple for itself, 
and is carried on in the name of Jehovah ! Hear 
what the apostle says of this danger: " If our gospel 
be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: in whom the 
god of this world hath blinded the minds of them 
which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel 
of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine 
unto them." Confident as we are, that the worldly 
would flee from this their destructive idol, if only 
their eyes were opened to a sense of their peril, we 
most gladly offer these cordial admonitions, in the 
hope that they may reach some hearts that are spell- 
bound under a sceptre so potent, and dream away 
their life in an empire so full of delusions. We 
would gladly hope, by the blessing of God, which 
attends the faithful appeals of his word, that some of 
those perishing souls may be roused to a feeling of 
their danger, and a care for the one thing needful; and 
then, if there be but so much as the question, What 
shall I do to be saved? there will be no rest till a 
refuge is sought and found in that peace of the Gospel 
by which the question is gratefully solved. Then 
instantly the taste and pursuits of the inquirer are 
changed. He will no longer entertain a dislike to 
religious publications, but will seek after such a 
volume as the one before us, with the reasonable and 
earnest purpose of learning from the prior experience 
of a fellow traveller, how to find safe guidance amidst 



xliii 

snares and perils, strength in weakness, consolation in 
sorrow; and how, amidst the fears of guih, and 
threatenings of foes, to abound in the blessedness of 
tliat peace which the world can neither give nor take 
away. 

But there is a harder obstruction to the course of 
such a volume than the devotedness of men to the 
world, and their consequent disrelish of a religious 
book. There is an artificial combination against 
such productions — a conspiracy to run them down, 
and frustrate the piety and benevolence of their 
design. Alienated from God, and too proud to 
receive the grace that bringeth salvation, men natu- 
rally hate the Saviour, and the way in which his dis- 
ciples are led. Hence, to vindicate their licentious 
career, they take counsel together, and say all manner 
of evil falsely against the faith of the Gospel. They 
call its best things by the worst names; both to show 
why themselves will have nothing to do with them, 
and to make them odious in the estimation of others. 
Piety they brand as hypocrisy, and hoHness, the 
visible glory of the Christian's life, they mock as the 
pretensions of those who would be righteous over 
much. O reader, if thou hast ever so spoken, or 
art inclined so to speak, I warn thee, take heed 
that such words be no more found on thy tongue. 
They breathe the deepest enmity to God, and the 
worst will to the best interests of thy species. If 
ever thou comest to a right mind, the remembrance 
of such language will be thy burning shame and thy 
bitterest sorrow; and if thou die as thou art, thou 
wilt be speechless when the Great Judge shall say, 
" Depart from me, ye cursed," and when thou shalt 



xliv 

see the wicked go away into everlasting punishment, 
and the riglitcous into I'lic eternal. God's precept 
is, "Be ye holy, tor I am holy;" his declaration is, 
" Without holiness no man shall see the Lord:" 
the Saviour's prayer in hehalf of all who believe on 
his name is, "Sanctify them through thy truth." 
Who then will dare to say that he hopes in God, 
and will yet speak contemptuously of that holiness 
which the Judge of all most peremptorily requires, 
in which he would have all men chiefly to resemble 
himself, and for the attainment of which, all means 
of grace must be as devoutly sought, and diligently 
applied, as they are wisely appointed and freely be- 
stowed ? 

Who, then, but the impious (and not many are 
fond of the name) would venture to defend impiety? 
Even heathens of old would not. The Latin poet, 
when he describes the Tyrrhenian king as a despiser 
of the gods above, chooses that epithet as being 
the most fit to represent a monster of abhorrence; 
and applies it to a tyrant as notorious for his infamy 
in morals, as impiety in religion. To detract from 
piety is to aim at the very lowest degradation of the 
human soul — to rob it of that brightest ornament by 
which it is most distinguished from the lower crea- 
tures ; to bring it down from the sublimest of all con- 
templations, and leave it to grovel amidst things of 
the dust; to sever the link that connects it with a 
higher sphere, whence it derives the noblest of its 
joys, the strongest of its consolations, as well as the 
purest and most purifying of its hopes. And if all 
this great good of true piety may be found as matter 
of fact in real life, and best of all, manifested in the 



xlv 

narratives of Christian experience, that is, in those 
very writings which are condemned on the ground of 
being religious, and vilified as a cloak of hypocrisy, 
then we charge these despisers as the enemies of 
Christ and his kingdom ; we charge them as guilty 
of a worse hypocrisy than that which they affect to 
despise. They do not dare to condemn piety, but 
they first give it the name of hypocrisy, and then 
condemn it. But why not begin by delineating such 
piety as they are disposed to approve, and then per- 
haps it might appear from their conduct that they 
are very little in love with the picture they have 
drawn? But instead of this, they begin by affixing 
the odious name of hypocrisy to that which others 
regard as piety, and which they themselves know to 
be good; and then under pretence of this bad name 
proceed to its formal condemnation, and, as far as they 
can, to its removal from the world: whereas the 
ordinary hypocrite does no more than not seek for 
himself that true piety which he knows to be good; 
he does not, under a false pretence, labour to make 
the world lose the advantage of it; but whilst he 
assumes its semblance, he does it some service by 
bearing at least his testimony to its worth, and in 
some measure promotes it in the world. The irre- 
ligious sort of hypocrisy is thus obviously the worst 
of the two. In both there is the falsehood proper 
to a disguise; but the falsehood is employed in dif- 
ferent ways. The religious hypocrite, to make a 
good character, assumes what he has not; the irre- 
ligious, to defend a bad character, condemns what 
he knows to be good. The one is characterised by 
weakness, the other by malignancy. The former does 



xlvi 

not, at least directly, injure any other than himself; 
the latter aims a blow at the honour of God, and the 
best interests of men. The reality of this deceit, 
where it is least allowed, and absolutely more criminal, 
is worthy of a careful investigation ; both for the 
cause of truth, and for warning to the wicked, who 
adopt many strange modes of self-vindication. In 
this case they set aside the most obvious and urgent 
claims of religion, on account of the insincerity, as they 
apprehend, of those who profess it ; they place their own 
acknowledged shortcoming, and fancied sincerity, in 
favourable contrast to the fjreater IcnMhs of a feigned 
profession; and so content themselves, amidst the 
most frequent neglects of duty and flagrant violations 
of moral principle, with the hearty and confident gra- 
tulation, Thank God we arc no hypocrites. And is 
that all ? Is that enough for a want of piety that 
would have been an abhorrence even to heathens? 
But hypocrites ye are, and of a species more guilty 
than those you are so loud in condemning; and this 
your own conscience will affirm, when you come nigh 
to the Great Judgment, in which the secrets of all 
hearts shall be laid open. Gladly would you then 
cast in your lot with many whom you now hate, not 
because of their spurious religion, as you allege, but 
because of the likeness which they have to that Lord 
who bought them with his blood. That Lord will 
find, and ye shall know, where the real hypocrisy lies. 
His woe is denounced against you even now; and 
what shall it be then? The hope of those whom 
you haughtily judge is the Rock of ages; yours the 
spider's web. Take one moment to search your 
hearts, and turn unto the Lord; for eternity is nigh, 



xlvii 

and what is the hope of the hypocrite when God taketh 
away his soul ? 

If then we would open a way for the volume be- 
fore us, and for works of a kindred spirit, by remov- 
ing the prejudice of those who have a strong dislike 
to the breathings of piety ; more easy we trust it will 
be found, to gain a fiivourable reception to such 
writings on account of that holiness of heart and life 
which they promote. For though it be ihe way of 
the world to stigmatise even this high excellence of 
character, as the pretension of those who would be 
righteous overmuch, yet is the prejudice, however 
monstrous in such a case, met by means that are more 
adequate to its removal. It is easier to rail against 
piety than against virtue. Piety is more a hidden thing 
of the heart, and though it be of the utmost worth, 
it does not admit of so certain a manifestation ; whereas 
holiness speaks more openly for itself, in all that is 
beautiful and good before the eyes of meil. It signi- 
fies the utter extirpation of those carnal desires and 
gratifications which defile the body, as well as the 
entire subjugation of those evil passions which war 
against the soul ; and which two sorts of corrupt- 
ing influence the apostle terms, a pollution of the 
flesh and spirit. What father, what mother, wish- 
ing well to their offspring, or who, that is a friend to 
his own soul, would venture to defend these vile 
things, or vilify the holiness that aims at their total 
extinction ? But holiness is not concerned merely in 
the removal of what is odious ; it includes all that is 
pure and lovely and of good report. If there be any 
virtue or any praise in the heathen world, the disciple 
of Christ will not in these things be outdone, but 



xlviii 

labour for tlieir attainment in r^rcater abundance and 
in greater perfection. 

Taught by the grace that brings salvation, and 
constrained by the love of Christ, he will deny all un- 
godliness and worldly lusts ; and, living soberly, righ- 
teously, and godly in the present world, will strive 
to adorn the doctrine of God his »Saviour in all 
things. 

Such worth and beauty of character are not more 
required than provided for in the grace of the Gos- 
pel ; and to the necessity of such attainments the 
voice of an awakened conscience will never fail to 
respond. No man living can maintain a contrary 
course, and have a mind at ease upon a sleepless 
bed, or before the lightning's flash, or in any danger 
that brings nigh the thouirht of death. St. Paul 
had a desire to depart and to be with Christ, which, he 
said, was far better; but he showed no such preference 
and had none of that calm delight at the time he was 
wasting the church and consenting to the murder of 
Stephen. The time came when he could say, 
*' Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righ- 
teousness ;" but it was after he had fought the good 
fight, and kept the faith. Then, indeed, he enjoyed 
the comfort of a witness on his side: " Our rejoic- 
ing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in 
simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wis- 
dom but by the grace of God, we have had our 
conversation in the world." This self-judgment, 
which cannot be shunned in the prospect of death, 
will not fail to take the ground of its decisions 
from certain declarations of holy writ, which will then 
be remembered however long they have been for- 



xlix 

gotten or despised ; and the strongest of all convic- 
tions will then be, that the Almighty, who is holy 
and true, will not suffer the subjects of his govern- 
ment to read one thing in the book of his laws, and 
see another thing in the actual proceedings of his tri- 
bunal; and hence the almost uniform and the intense 
desire of those who are dying without a good hope 
through grace is, O that my days might be prolonged 
— that I might be spared but a little for repentance 
and preparation to meet my God ! 

We tell thee, O reader, that if not given to the 
one thing needful, thy day is coming when this wish 
for longer time will be the strongest thy heart has 
ever felt or lips have breathed; and if disappointment 
await the fervour of that desire, no language can 
depict the misery of thy apprehensions. In what 
kindness, then, do we commend the perusal of this 
volume as an experimental guide to peace in believing 
and blissful anticipations of a life to come. Let there 
be a faithful appliance of the like means, and because 
Christ, who appoints the means, is the same yesterday, 
to-day, and for ever, there will not fail to be the like end. 
Let there be no trifling with time. It is God's gift, 
and given to the intent that you may work out your 
own salvation. Let no pretended friends betray you 
into a conspiracy against God and the interests of 
eternity. You sin in company, but you die alone. 
You take encouragement from the strength of your 
league, but how will its bonds be as water when you 
are taken away one by one. Your partners in rebel- 
lion may avow their affection and fidelity to you on 
your dying bed, but they will not go with you through 
the dark valley of death; nor would they help to al- 
C 63 



1 

leviate your burden — for every one must bear his 
own, and will find he has with that enough to do. 
The extreme of suffering is the extreme of selfish- 
ness ; and what suffering can equal the immediate 
prospect of falling guilty and unpardoned into the 
hands of the living God. Let it be a fixed conclu- 
sion, then, that amongst such associates there will be 
at the last no friend ; and that even now the worst 
enemies are they who create a prejudice against the 
friend that stickcth closer than a brother, and who will 
not leave you to tread the dark valley alone, but will 
be with you alway even unto the end, and will up- 
hold you with the right hand of his righteousness. 

That yours may be such help in time of need, 
prepare the way we entreat you, by giving, as the 
subject of this memoir did, the most earnest heed to 
the word of God. Avoid the horrid sin of a care- 
less, contemptuous, or malicious hearing of the blessed 
Gospel, and receive with meekness the ingrafted word 
which is able to save your soul. The Author of the 
word has appointed that faith shall come by hearing, 
and has given the promise that his Spirit shall teach 
you all things. Let the long-felt, it may be, and 
acknowledged weariness of a lifeless devotion demon- 
strate the need of a higher teachinfj than that which 
is effected either l)y the letter of the record or the lips 
of parents and pastors. Relying on the Lord's promise, 
pray fervently and without ceasing for the teaching 
of his Spirit, that you may be savingly taught ; and 
he who is the Amen, the faithful and true witness, 
will not deny himself, but, far more surely then we 
who are evil will give bread and not a stone to satisfy 
the wants of our children, will He who is good give 



li 

the Holy Spirit to them that ask him ; and then most 
certainly will the word prove " spirit and life," and 
prosper in that whereto it is sent. 

Then will sin indeed be seen not only in the vile- 
ness of its enmity against a loving Father, but in 
the horrors of its instant danger and unutterable ruin; 
and yet there need be no overwhelming fear in turning 
from it unto God; for in the same light in which sin 
appears deadly and detestable, the Lord is seen in all 
the fulness of his love and willingness to save. 
And hence, as repentance is to the immortal soul the 
greatest event of time, no movement of a moral kind 
is in this world so forcibly urged. A man will escape 
from a sinking ship though it be to encounter the 
cold and nakedness of a desert shore, its beasts of 
prey, or monsters of the human race, more fierce and 
relentless. He would leap from a burning ship 
though it were only to deliberate for a few moments 
about death amidst the tumult of the waves ; but 
when the sinner, awake to worse dangers, is deter- 
mined to flee, he is not left alone to the perils of the 
deep or to seek some refuge on a dreadful coast. 
But One is nigh who walketh on the sea, and the 
stretching forth of whose hand is accompanied with 
the gracious word, " It is I, be not afraid." To 
the waves, as well as to the thoughts within, he 
says, " Peace, be still," and there is a great calm. 
The same that rules the sea is Lord also of the land; 
and thither led, the rescued wanderer finds Emma- 
nuel's country safe : his fears are soothed by a cor- 
dial welcome ; for his wants a feast is ordained ; and 
that he may lack no honour and suffer no shame, a 
ring is put ou his finger and he is clothed with the 



lii 

best robe. O what will hell be when it shall be 
seen that there was once sucli a refuge as this? 
Consider this ye tliat are lovers of pleasure more 
than lovers of God, and who, treading upon hell's 
borders, pay no heed to the Saviour's complaint, "Ye 
will not come unto me that ye might have life." 

How sweetly saved from death, and blessed in all 
his after days is he who has really fled for refuge to 
the hope set before him. He will find indeed from 
the shortcoming of his affection to a Benefactor so 
gracious, and the frequent outbreaking of sin, that 
there is a constant need of watching unto prayer, 
and walking humbly with God. And we earnestly 
exhort all who arc so far advanced to be more vigi- 
lant than ever; to wait upon God in all his ordi- 
nances; — in the daily reading of his word, in closet 
and family prayer, in devotional conversation, in 
sanctifying the Sabbath, and giving regular atten- 
dance on the services of the sanctuary. Then shall 
ye know if ye follow on to know the Lord; and whilst 
you are thus growing in grace and the knowledge of 
the Lord Jesus Christ, He shall bring forth your 
judgment as the light, and your righteousness as the 
noon day; and the work of righteousness shall be 
peace, and the effect of righteousness quietness and 
assurance for ever. 

Then under the power of vital godliness, as 
exemplified in the following memoir, you will find 
religion your delight, and no longer regard its duties 
as a task. Li this better frame, from what miserable 
follies are you at once set free? of what inestimable 
blessings do you immediately partake? Free from 
the tediousness of a continual round of formalities — 



J 



liii 

from the delusion of a name to live whilst yet there is 
no life — from the sin of carrying on a system of re- 
ligious hypocrisy, and from the fear of death, which all 
along is slavishly viewed as the crisis that will termi- 
nate all hypocritical gains, and detect all hypocritical 
baseness; for "what is the hope of the hypocrite 
when God taketh away his soul ?" Not only free, 
we say, from these evil things, but admitted to the 
exalted bliss of a heavenly hope, of communion with 
God, and to the joy of a path which shall be as the 
shinincT licrht that shineth more and more unto the 
perfect day. How happy to be brought within the 
sphere of a law which seems to pervade all nature ; 
and which invariably connects a divinely appointed 
progress with a concurrent increase of felicity; unit- 
ing in this case a growing likeness to God, with an 
enlarging measure of enjoyment, and always tempting 
to further progress by the experience of past, and the 
hopes of future good — a reciprocal promotion, which 
since it obtains as far as our eye can reach, and 
is withal so noble and beneficial, it is reasonable to 
conclude will go on for ever. 

Thus renewed after their Lord's image, saints are 
his workmanship, and whilst he shall see in them of 
the travail of his soul and shall be satisfied, they 
shall see in him all their salvation, and regard him 
as the chief amongst ten thousand, and altogether 
lovely. Their glory through him is as secure as 
his glory is in them ; and thus constituting a part of 
a grand and gracious scheme, their whole mind is in 
harmony with the counsels of Heaven. They find 
nothing but good in all that comes from the hand of 
God. His chastisements they receive as the tokens 



iiv 

of his love; and though their cartlily lot be like the 
lot of all, yet is it redeemed from the common cast 
of this world's vanity; for whilst the tide of their 
earthly enjoyment is ebbing to the lowest channel, 
that of their heavenly is flowing in deeper and 
brighter abundance. The last enemy is death, 
the terror and destruction of all who are without 
Christ; but to them that are his, death is reckoned 
as one of their covenant mercies. It may indeed be 
not without tribulation for a time; but stript of its 
sting, and sanctified by the grace of the Redeemer, 
it will only serve to give the soul a longing for 
rest, to make heaven more sweet, and then take the 
heart to the place of its treasure. 

O reader, may such an end be thine. Thy day 
is coming, and perhaps thou art convinced; but the 
tempter invites thee to delay. Next year thou 
wouldst begin to be serious ! But what if God say 
this year thou shalt die? In a lower tone thou 
wouldst rest thy pleading on next day. But what if 
it is written, This night shall thy soul be required ? 
The counsel of thine enemy is, Any year or any 
day, but not now ; the command of thy God is, Now 
is the appointed time, and now is the hour of salva- 
tion. N. P. 

September 7, 1839. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 



Chap. I Birth of Mrs. Taylor — Attachment to Books- 
Connexion with tiie Sunday School — Sudden Death of a 
former Schoolmaster — Filial Duty — Early Friendships — 
Religious Impressions, ...... 1 

Chap. II. — Preparation for a new sphere — Journey to New 
York — Extract from her Journal — Pleasure in Teaching — 

— Sickness — Letter to IMrs. S Death of her Cousin — 

Correspondence — Letter from Miss M. E. C Spiritual 

Condition — Obituary Notice of Mrs. Vose, . . 11 

Chap. III. — Visit to Connecticut — Strivings of the Holy 
Spirit — Pastoral Fidelity — Description of the Christian 
Character — Peace and Joy in Believing — Letters to Miss 
N. — Important Resolution, 32 

Chap. IV Mrs. Taylor's Baptism — Obligations of the 

Christian Covenant — Peculiar Qualification for Instructing 

— Unwearied Efforts — Importance of Daily Studying the 
Bible — Correspondence Solicitude for the Spiritual Welfare 
of her Relatives — Letter of Consolation — Religious Enjoy- 
ment — Aged Servant of God, .... ,54 

Chap. V. — Extract from Mrs. Taylor's Diary — Severe Trial 

— Resolutions at the Commencement of a New Year — 
Teachers' Meeting — A Family in Eternity — Notice of Mrs. 
Judson — Desire for a Missionary Life — Rev. Mr. Clark's 
Bible 73 

Chap. VI. — Painful Sundering of Ties — Visit to Saybrook — 
Conversation with an Unbeliever — Persuasive Letter to 
her Sister — Value of Christian Society — Sense of Respon- 
sibility — Fidelity in Impressing Divine Truth upon her 
scholars — Memoirs of jMrs. Huntington — Spiritual Con- 
flicts — Increased Endeavours after Holiness. . . . 93 

Chap. VII. — Self-examination — "Advice to a Young Chris- 
tian" — Female Biography — Arduous Duties of her School 
— Interesting Seasons with her Pupils — Reflections at the 
Close of the Year — Tendency of Afflictions to Draw the 
Heart to God — Affecting case of Destitution and Suffering 
—Letter from Rev. J. A. Clark 117 

Chap. VIII — Blessed Result of Faithful Labours — Review 
of her past Life — Devotional Exercises — Sickness and 
Death of a Beloved Sister — Poetical Tribute to her Me- 
mory — Words of Comfort to a Friend, . . 124 



Ivi CONTENTS. 



Page 



Chap. IX. — Sanctified Afflictions — Renewed Ardour in the 
Performance of Duty — Ueatli llegardedas Near — Cheerlul 
Acquiescence in the Divine Will — Increase of Strength — 
Return to the City — Gratitude for I'ast IMercies — Winter 
Spent in Retirement — High Estimate of Missionary 
Services, H8 

Chai*. X Marriage — Solicitude for Divine Guidance — 

Cholera — Death of Mrs. Tillotson — Adopted Daughter — 
Family of the Christian — Commencement of the Author's 
Acquaintance with Mrs. Taylor l(j:> 

Chap. XI. — Severe Illness — Consolations of the Gospel — 
Importance of Maternal Duties — Care of a Family Rclin- 
quished--Temporary Separation from her Children- Journey 
to Philadelphia — Summer Residence in New Jersey — 
Correpondence — Trust in God, . , . . .171 

Chap. XII. — Consultation of Physicians — Hope of Life Re- 
linquished — Final Parting with her Children — Letters 
Written on the Trying Occasion — A Mother's Advice to 
her Children — Depression of Spirits — Importance of 
Keeping the Saviour Steadily in View, .... 182 

Chap. XIII. — Renewal of Enjoyment — Duty of Christians 
to Live Near to God — Value ot Sympathy — Observance of 
the Lord's Day — Gratifying Exhibition of Faith and Love 
— Claims of the Heathen, 198 

Chap. XIV. — Christian Character as seen in the last Year 
of her Life — Foretaste of the Happiness of the Redeemed 
— Lines addressed to her Eldest Son — To her Youngest 
Son on his liirth-day — To her Adopted Daughter — Pa- 
rental Solicitude — Utility of Sunday Schools, . . 207 

Chap. XV. — Power of the Gospel — Deep Interest in the 
Condition of the Sick and Necessitous — Special instance of 
the benign Effect of Religion — Mrs. Taylor's last Letter 
from New York — Departure from the City — Elevated State 
of her Affections — Closing Scene — Letter from Rev. A. L. 218 

Chap. XVL — Review of Mrs. Taylor's Character — Quali- 
ties as a Teacher — Admiration ot the Works of Nature — 
Fervour and Consistency of her Piety and Friendship, by 
Rev. C. H. — Letter from Dr. J. A. McV. — Her Christian 
Character, by Rev. O. W. — Mother Taking Leave of her 
Children, by W. C. — The Missionary's Prayer — Sketch in 
Miniature — Conclusion, 236 




CHAPTER I. 

IJirth of Mrs. Taylor — Attachment to Books — Connexion with 
the Sunday School — Removal to Colchester — Member of 
Bacon Academy — Sudden Death of a former Schoolmate — 
Filial Duty — Early Friendships — Religious Impressions — 
Return to her Parental Home. 

When we stand on the banks of a beautiful river, 
and behold its accumulated waters moving gently 
but with stately grandeur to the ocean, we would 
not repress the desire which naturally arises, to trace 
those waters to their distant source — to follow the 
rivulet as its winds along, avoiding obstructions, re- 
ceiving its tributary streams, acquiring additional 
force, and sweeping away the strongest barriers of 
nature. What more dissimilar than the humble rill 
and the majestic stream ! yet we love to contemplate 
them together, to consider them as one and the same 
river, and to observe the successive gradations of its 
course. 

With equal interest in the moral world, when we 
stand by the couch of the dying christian, and per- 
ceive the immortal spirit gathering strength for its 
upward flight — see it triumphing over the weakness 
and sufferings of this mortal frame, and rejoicing, 
yea, glorying in tribulation — we would learn by 
what process this wonderful achievement has been 
made, whence the agency that has been exerted, 
A 63 



nnd liow the undying spirit in this house of clay 
may be transformed and prepared for the realms of 
glory. 

An illustration of these particulars will be at- 
tempted in the followini,' memoir. 

Mrs. Sarah Louisa Taylor, third daughter of 
William and Mary Ann Foote, was born at East 
Haddam, Connecticut, January 18th, 1809. The 
early years of her life were spent beneath the pa- 
rental roof, in the enjoyment of that kindly inter- 
course by which members of the same family arc 
strongly endeared to each other. Here her habits 
were formed, and those affections called into exercise 
which constituted so powerful an attraction in subse- 
quent years. While she was beloved by every mem- 
ber of the domestic circle, and was ever anxious to 
render herself useful, she evinced an ardent attach- 
ment to books. They had sufficient power over her 
to diminish her interest in childish amusements. She 
attended the district schools in the vicinity of her 
residence, and became familiar with the branches 
usually taught in them. In the tenth year of her 
.ige she was sent to a select school in Glastenhurv; 
uhere she commended herself, by close attention to 
ner studies, the propriety of her deportment, and 
■specially the kindness of her feelings, to the favour- 
able regard of all who knew her. Some of the in- 
timacies here contracted were continued to the end 
of her days. 

For several years, she attended the Sunday school 
of St. Luke's church in this town. — To those who 
kilt w her subsequently as the persevering and faith- 
I'll icacher, it will l)e interesting to think of her 



taking the first lessons in the capacity of a scholar. 
The truths then instilled into her mind were never 
forgotten. They were the germ which eventually 
produced much fruit. 

Her earliest writings evince a playfulness of fancy, 
a lively and vigorous conception of the various pecu- 
liarities in the character and disposition of her asso- 
ciates ; while they breathe so affectionate a spirit that 
none could take offence. She selected from her 
favourite authors those passages with which she was 
most delijihted. It was her constant aim to turn her 
reading to some valuable account. That she often 
pursued a serious train of thought is evident from the 
reflections she made on various subjects. In March, 
1821, she expresses herself in an interesting and 
affecting manner on the passage, " Thou God seest 
me." 'J he thought that the eye of God was con- 
tinually upon her seems to have been in some degree 
realized, and to have awakened for the time deep emo- 
tions of awe and reverence. Yet we are not permitted 
to rank her amon^r the number of those who, in the 
very morn and freshness of their lives, made an en- 
tire surrender of themselves to the service of God, 
At this period no member of her father's family was 
connected with " the household of faith ;" and the 
opinions she was accustomed to hear advanced on 
religious subjects were materially different from those 
which she subsequently embraced. 

In the winter of 1824. she became a member of 
Bacon Academy in the town of Colche5<ter. At 
this institution she enjoyed excellent advantages for 
improving her mind and regulating her affection-. 
None made greater proficiency in their stud'cs, or 



secured in a higher degree the esteem and confi- 
dence of their teachers and associates. She was 
prompt to every call of" duty, and so demeaned her- 
self as to be recommended for an example to others. 
Though diligently employed during the week, she 
was far from being indolent on the Lord's day. By 
the laws of the Academy, all the pupils were required 
to attend public worship, and to hand to their instruc- 
tors, on Monday morning, an abstract of the sermons 
they had heard. Many regarded this exercise as a 
task, and devised expedients to relieve themselves 
from it. She found in it much to interest, and con- 
sidered the results so beneficial, that she continued 
the practice the greater part of her life. She joined 
a Bible class connected with the Sunday school, and 
afterwards became a teacher in the school; in each 
situation evincing an earnest desire to profit by her 
privileges, and to make them contribute to the most 
valuable purposes. 

The dispensations of Providence always produced 
a powerful effect upon her. They induced her to 
recur to the truths of the Bible, and to realize the 
fleeting nature of all terrestrial objects. In the sum- 
mer of this year one of her former schoolmates was 
called to make a sudden exchange of worlds. To 
the friend who conveyed the intelligence she thus 
writes : — 

" Colchester, July 6, 1824-. 
" My dear A., — Yours of the 1st inst. was re- 
ceived with pleasure, but its contents filled my heart 
with the deepest sorrow. Can it be possible, I was 
ready to exclaim, that our valued friend is no more .'' 
\\'hcnwe lastsawhershewasyoung, gay, and thought- 



less, and probably put far off the evil clay ; but in an 
unexpected moment the ' fell destroyer' came, and 
triumphed over all that was lovely and amiable. How 
forcibly this event should impress us with a sense of 
the shortness of life, and the vanity of those things 
to which we are most attached. Every object to 
which we direct our thoughts affords striking proof 
that its duration is short. Its fluctuations and changes 
are often sudden. The transition from time to the 
untried scenes of eternity may take place in the most 
unexpected moment. 

" Perhaps, while the individual is forming plans 
for future years, thoughtless of death and eternity, 
the summons comes — he is arrested in his course — 
his strong frame yields. No mortal arm can avert 
the impending stroke ; no power can rescue him from 
the embrace of death. 

" If we look at the receptacle of the silent dead, 
will not our hearts acknowledge, that 'life's a dream* 
— a shadow that passeth quickly away? There we 
behold an end of all earthly distinctions. The young 
and the old, the rich and the poor, lie mouldering in 
the same native dust. 

" Alluding to the dying scene of our friend, you 
say, ' death was indeed unexpected and unwelcome 
— an unlooked-for visitor.' Arc we not all liable to 
be called as suddenly ? Do we not act unwisely, to 
place our whole affections on the transitory objects of 
time ? We are young, and ardently desire to enjoy 
happiness ; but if we imagine that this world alone 
can afford us enjoyment, we shall be sorely disap- 
pointed. All the alluring forms of earth are decep- 
tive ; they are airy phantoms, which will soon vanish. 



Why do wc so eagerly <;rasp at tliesc, and Jcek not 
those pleasures which flow from God's rig.,t hand 
for evermore? We must pass through the dark 
valley, and, like those who have gone before us, lie 
down in silence. Our names will be buried in ob- 
livion. New generations will arise, and fill the places 
we now occupy. These will be succeeded by others, 
till the trump of the archangel shaJl proclaim 'that 
time shall be no loufjer.' 

" That we may both realize the uncertainty and 
vanity of earthly things, and the necessity of being 
prepared for death, is the sincere desire of your af- 
fectionate friend, 

" Sarah ." 

It is gratifying to perceive that, while she was the 
most completely engrossed by the various duties of 
the Academy, she was ever mindful of those to whom 
she was bound by the ties of nature and affection. 
Though separated from her immediate relatives, her 
interest was not diminished in any thing that per- 
tained to them. In November we find her cnjraired 
in the delightful employment of comforting her mo- 
ther in the midst of severe trials. There are few situa- 
tions in which a daughter appears to more advantage 
than when attempting to pour the balm of consolation 
into a parent's heart. Her affectionate solicitude 
will naturally suggest such topics as most effectually 
withdraw the mind from the sources of its sorrow, 
and lead it to dwell upon brighter and more cheering 
views. This was the course pursued by Miss Foote. 
Though she could not speak, irom her own experi- 
ence, of those joys which the Lord often grants to 



I 



his chiltlrcn in seasons of tribulation, yet she ha- 
Ueved in their existence, and was fully persuaded, 
that the only substantial support which mortals can 
obtain in this vale of tears must be derived from the 
Eternal Jehovah. Hence she desired that her afflicted 
parent mij^ht rcniember, that all events are ordered in 
infinite wisdom — that trials and afflictions are ne- 
cessary to wean us from an undue attachment to the 
world, and reminded her of the promise "As our day 
is so shall our strength be." " You have never been 
forsaken in the time of trouble. Relief is often im- 
parted in the way we least expect it." Children never 
have reason to regret such manifestations ot filial 
regard. Were they more solicitous to be a comfort 
to those who watched over them in infancy, their 
path through life would be less rugged : they would 
be delivered from a frequent cause of anguish. 

In the early part of 182.5, Miss Foote spent seve- 
ral months in teaching a class of young children in 
the Academy, and then resumed her situation as a 
pupil, and continued to the end of the year with the 
same industry and perseverance for which she had 
previously been distinguished. Her attainments 
were, in every point of view, highly creditable. Mr. 
Vose, at that time the Principal of the Academy, gave 
the most ample testimony to the excellence of her 
character, the solidity and extent of her acquirements, 
and her general qualifications to make herself useful 
as a teacher. With his amiable and accomplished 
lady, Mrs. Elizabeth Q. Vose, she enjoyed much pro- 
fitable intercourse, and, after leaving Colchester, 
maintained a correspondence with her, fraught with 
sentiments of mutual attachment and affection, which 



8 

was only interrupted by the tleatli of lier beloved 
preceptress. Here she formed many friendsliips, 
which were destined to survive the passing hour. 
The influence they exerted upon her, so far as it can 
be ascertained from her own writings, or the 1 iters of 
her correspondents, was salutary. The place itself 
was endeared to her by many powerful associations. 
She was comparatively free from care, deeply inte- 
rested in whatever she engaged, alive to the comfort 
and happiness of others, greeted by the approving 
smile of her instructors, and a welcome companion in 
every circle. 

It may be thought that, under such circum- 
stances, she would be little inclined to reflect on the 
great purpose for which she was brought into the 
world — that the concerns of the immortal soul would 
be entirely banished from her mind. Such a con- 
clusion respecting her would be unjust. She reflected 
much on religious subjects, and was solemnly im- 
pressed with the necessity of living to the glory of 
God. Advancing in divine knowledge, she gave the 
full assent of her understanding to those doctrines 
which arc the most humbling to human pride. She 
saw the truth, admired its beauty, was at times af- 
fected by it, but remained a stranger to its renovating 
power. Her writings show most clearly, that she 
renounced every foundation of human hope which the 
ingenuity of man has devised, and was convinced that 
salvation could only be obtained, by rich unmerited 
grace, through Jesus Christ. The Bible unfolded 
to her view that glorious plan by which the law of 
Jehovah could be ma<inified and command universal 
respect, while the penitent sinner could have access 



to the Mercy-scat, and, trusting in the Saviour's 
merits, receive a comforting evidence of the forgive- 
ness of sins. Yet she dwelt with painful emotions 
on the condition of those who reject the overtures 
of mercy, and treasure up wrath against the day of 
wrath. 

Having spoken of the inestimable value of the 
Bible, she recurs, under date of October 21, in a 
touching manner, to those who are unenlightened and 
unaflPected by its truths, " No voice from the sacred 
desk makes known to them the glad tidings of salva- 
tion. No humble heart-felt prayer ascends to Him 
who alone has power to forgive sin and to purify the 
heart. The blood of immortal beings marks the 
wheels of the car which bears alonji the terrific ob- 
ject before which thousands bow. Whose heart 
does not melt with compassion for such infatuated 
beings? — But will not the condemnation of those in 
christian lands be far more severe, who, with a know- 
ledge of the way of salvation, pass heedlessly down 
to the grave ? Suppose an individual of this descrip- 
tion on the verge of eternity. When his offences 
appear in their true light, would he not gladly recall 
the time he has spent, it may be, in reviling the very 
truths which now fill him with anguish. He is 
conscious that he must soon enter the presence of his 
God, and knows that he is unprepared. Where 
can he go for solace ? This blessed book does in- 
deed proclaim pardon to the repenting sinner, rest 
to the weary, and eternal life to those who continue 
faithful unto the end. But does it not, with equal 
clearness, proclaim tribulation and anguish to all who 
grow bold in iniquity ? Has he time now to make 
A 2 



10 

his peace with an otfendccl God? W'lio can give 
him the assurance that the day ot" mercy is not for 
ever closed?" 

December 2, 182"), she thus writes: " Howseldom 
do we reflect on our obli<^ations to love, reverence, 
and obey our Creator ! What blessing do we enjoy 
that wc have not received from him ? When we 
consider the future happiness in reserve for the righ- 
teous, and the inevitable misery of those who love 
not God, neither obey his commandments, how can 
wc refrain from yielding our hearts entirely to him ? 
Did wc realize the compassion of that Saviour who, 
' when there was no eye to pity and no arm to save,' 
left the bosom of the Father, in the realms of glory, 
and submitted to the ignoniinious death of the cross, 
that he might make atonement for our sins, could 
we withhold from him our best affections ? Can we 
refuse to consecrate ourselves to his service without 
being guilty of the basest ingratitude, and incurring 
tile wrath of the Almighty, which abideth for ever." 

With these convictions of truth and duty, in a 
few weeks from this time she took leave of her I'riends 
in Colchester, where she had spent two happy years, 
returned to the home of her childhood, and made 
arrangements for entering on anew sphere of action. 



11 



CHAPTER II. 

Prepiiratioii for a New Spliere — Journey to New York — Disiip- 
poiiUment — Extracts from her Journal — Pleasures in Teach- 
ing — Sympatliy for the Afflicted — Sickness — Letter to Mrs. 
S. — Death of a Cousin — Correspondence — Letter from Miss. 
M. E. C. — Spiritual Condition — Obituary Notice of Mrs. Vose. 

The period at which we have arrived in the life of 
Miss Footc is one of deep interest to the young, 
being a transition from pupilage to a condition in 
which it is necessary that they should act for them- 
selves, form their own plans, rely upon their own 
judgment, and pursue a career of usefulness and re- 
spectability. They stand on a point from which thev 
look forward to the future with buoyant hopes and 
flattering expectations. The world is before them : 
and they often imagine that they have only to expiess 
the wish, and act accordingly, and every thing will 
transpire in conformity to that wish. Their inter- 
course having chiefly been, with those of their own 
age, devoted to similar pursuits, a new and to them 
untrodden path is to be entered. They find that 
the world, which their fancy had portrayed, is very 
different from that of real life. Their most confident 
expectations are frequently disappointed. They are 
constrained to take lessons in a school where they 
have never been disciplined — the school of experi- 
ence. God in great mercy permits them to see the 
weakness of their own strength, the futility of many 
of their plans. He leads them in a way they have 
not known, by counsels they have never fathomed. 



12 

that he may prepare them for the stations they are 
hereafter to occupy. Happy are they who early 
choose liim for tlieir portion, and in the midst of these 
vicissitudes, have an anchor to their souls sure and 
steadfast. 

Miss Foote had for some time contemplated de- 
voting herself to the instruction of youth, an employ- 
ment which she had regarded as affording peculiar 
facilities for doing good. She knew that success in 
acquiring knowledge is no sure evidence of an apt- 
ness to teach, and that obstacles might interfere, to 
prevent even an entrance on an employment fondly 
sought. Being prepared to make the trial, she left 
her father's house on the 3rd of May, 1826, with the 
intention of opening a school in the city of New York. 
Thus, at the age of seventeen, she was going into 
the world, uncertain who would seek her friendship, 
or with what intent. She seemed, on taking leave 
oi' her connexions, to be parting from them for life. 
Her mother accompanied her to Norwich, where she 
went on board a packet, and with a pleasant circle 
of friends, after a passage of three days through the 
Sound, " admiring the romantic and delightful sce- 
nery," arrived at New York. She went directly to 
the residence of her cousin, Mrs. M. A. T., who 
gave her a "cordial reception." On this occasion 
she made the following entry in her journal. " I 
shall not soon forget the adventures of the past week, 
nor tlie friends who have added to my enjoyment. 
We liave separated, it may be never to meet again 
on this side of eternity." In a few days she made 
herself familiar with the prominent objects of in- 
terest around her. Here was the licld of her future 



13 

labours, the sphere of duty marked out by the pro- 
vidence of God. Here was her spiritual birth place, 
and here too, with the exception of an occasional 
absence of a few months, she passed the remainder 
of her days. The various circumstances by which 
she was affected will claim our notice, so far as they 
develope the agency of that unseen power which 
controleth all events. Incidents comparatively trif- 
ling may have an important influence upon us, or 
indicate the prevailing state of our minds. The 
disappointments and afflictions of life are not vvithout 
their effect. We learn wisdom from experience, 
acquire a greater knowledge of ourselves, and become 
better qualified to perform aright our respective duties. 
The endeavours of Miss Foote to encaffo in her 
favourite pursuit were not crowned with immediate 
success. Weeks and months elapsed, seasons of 
doubt and apprehension, before the object she had 
so much at heart seemed in a train of accomplish- 
ment. The anxiety necessarily attending a state of 
suspense, together with the uncertainty of the future, 
revived her serious impressions, and led her to per- 
ceive, with increasing clearness, that she was relying 
too much upon her own strength. On the first of 
June she writes, " Another month is numbered, with 
the 'years beyond the flood.' Since the commence- 
ment of tlie last month, how many scenes I have 
passed through ! What hopes and fears have alter- 
nately filled my bosom ! Is it not sinful for me to 
devote my mind so exclusively to terrestrial objects, 
without duly considering those things which concern 
not only my present but eternal welfare ? How 
vain are all human exertions without the blessing of 
Heaven !" 



14 

Her conscience often reproved her for a neglect 
of duty, particularly for being deficient in a duo 
observance of the Lord's dav ; not that she allowed 
herself to abstain from public worship, but that her 
thouglits were not suitably employed in meditating 
upon divine truth. She speaks in her journal of 
the improper manner in which she had spent these 
hallowed hours, and of the little effect produced 
upon her by what she heard. On one occasion she 
observes, with apparent emotion, " Oft I frequent 
God's holy house and hear almost in vain." " How 
little do 1 know of my own heart — of its proncness 
to deceive, and of its evil desires !" 

At times she would recur to past scenes, call to 
mind the beloved friends from whom she was sepa- 
rated, the many pleasant hours they had spent to- 
gether, and give expression to the desire that she 
miffht have one friend to whom she could "confide 
her little griefs and cares," " who would double the 
joys and divide the woes of life." Nor was she in- 
sensible to the kindness of many with whom she had 
recently become acquainted. " I have found," she 
says, " kind and sincere friends ; but I cannot at 
once transfer to them that confidence I have reposed 
in those with whom I have been acquainted for a 
longer period." Giving vent to her feelings with 
reference to them in the silent hours of the night, 
she breaks forth, " May they be kept in safety under 
the protection of the Almighty, and may absent 
as well as present friends be alike the objects ot 
his care." 

She resumed her journal, Aug. 31st, after having 
omitted to record any thin<f in it for several months. 



15 

Her illusions to the past convey a clear indication of 
the state of her mind, and the feelings she had cher- 
ished. — 

" Many long days have passed away, and many 
sins have heen sealed up for the judgment, since 
my pen was last employed in this journal : Many 
hopes have tilled my bosom — hopes destined to end 
in disappointment. But mine is not a solitary case. 
Others, within the limited sphere of my observation, 
are subjected, in a similar manner, to disappointment 
and misfortune. Compared with the lot of thousands, 
I have peculiar cause for thankfulness. I want for 
nothing, but the thought of the future often obtrudes 
and embitters every enjoyment. Now I am surround- 
ed bv friends ; soon I may be in far different circum- 
stances : Now I have the prospect of a home, and 
of ultimately succeeding in a school; soon these, like 
all other earthly hopes, may be blasted. What may 
be in reserve for me I know not, for we are ignorant 
of the events which another hour may unfold. Whe- 
ther prosperity or adversity be my portion, may I bear 
it with a right spirit, and ever consider who is the 
lluler of all things, and how great is my unworthi- 
ness ! — To-morrow is the commencement of a new 
n»onth; may its close, if I am in mercy permitted to 
see it, find me in possession of the blessings I now 
enjoy ! May my conduct evince my gratitude, and 
my heart bow to Him through whose goodness they 
were given and have been so long continued !" 

" Sept. 1. Another busy day has past, and allth.e 
family have retired. After a day thus spent, I find 
relief in reading or writing, though it encroach upon 
the time usually devoted to rest. O that I could 



16 

liear once more from Colchester, that dear spot, which 
contains so many of my best friends. It may be 
that they have forgotten nie or only think of me as 
a * passing stranger.' Be that as it may, 1 there he- 
came acquainted with a. few who will ever be remem- 
bered with affection, who gave such proofs of real 
regard for me, as to merit my highest and lasting 
esteem. May I not reasonably indulge the wish, to 
know what has transpired among them during our 
separation .'"' 

" Sunday, Sept. 3. I have heard two excellent 
sermons from Mr. C. The text was 1 Cor. vi, 19, 
20. ' Ye are not your own, for ye are bought with 
a price.' He commenced by showing the nature of 
sin — the way it was introduced into the world — the 
value of the atonement made by Christ — and con- 
cluded with an earnest and affecting exhortation to 
the impenitent, to come and he made free through 
the merits of a crucified Redeemer. Were all min- 
isters of the Gospel equally active and zealous, were 
they excited by the same love for the souls of sinners 
by which he appears to be influenced, would not more 
good be done by the preaching of the word ? 

" To-morrow, should nothing unforeseen prevent, 
I shall commence school. How much I need Divine 
assistance, and how earnestly I ought to implore it! 
Great will be my responsibility, and great my obliga- 
tions. May I be guided by Infinite Wisdom, and 
keep in view my accountahihty, my frailty, and lia- 
bility to err !" 

Sept. 4 was to her a day of lively interest. She 
had anticipated it with pleasure, and could not enter 
on its duties without emotion. It seemed a consum- 



17 

mation of all her desires, and opened before her a 
prospect of extensive and permanent usefulness. We 
can readily conceive, that when the little group who 
were to be guided by her counsels, and made the daily 
subjects of her exertions, assembled around her, she 
would think of all the way in which she had been 
led, of the mercies that liad attended her path, and 
mark, in a strong and indelible manner, the overruling 
hand of a watchful Parent. 

On the 24th of September, she offered her service 
as a teacher in the Sunday school, and was thank- 
fully received. From her readiness to engage in 
I this labour of love, it must not be inferred that she 
was a stranger to her own condition, or acted in a 
[j thoughtless manner. Her humiliating confession, 
recorded at the time, clearly expresses the state of 
i her mind : — 

" I feel that I am unqualified to be a spiritual 
teacher, even to the most ignorant and benighted ; 
for I am myself in darkness, gross darkness. I 
trust however my motive is correct, though I cannot 
feel confident even of this, for my heart is deceitful 
above all things, and desperately wicked. When • 
I examine the principles that govern my actions, I 
am amazed at the discovery. How can a heart 
which is wholly engrossed by the world and self 
contain ought else than feelincrs the most selfish 
and motives the most unchristian ? 

Oct. 2, she writes in her journal, " Dr. D. has 
just informed me of the death of a dear friend. My 
feelings at that moment I could not repress without 
difficulty. If such be ray feelings, what must be 
those of his young, affectionate, and devoted wife ! 



IS 

Dear R,, my heart bleeds for her. I would write 
to her did I know in what manner to address her. 
Could I but hear that reason was spared to him, that 
his reelings were changed, and his hopes renewed, I 
should not mourn. But if" he died as when I last 
saw him, how doubly aggravated will be the affliction 
of his dear wife ! May she trust in the widow's 
God, and the Father of the fatherless. May his 
presence support her, and enable her to say, in per- 
fect submission, The will of Heaven be done. Oh 
that her little babe may be spared to bless and com- 
fort her, and supply, as far as possible, the loss she 
has sustained. ' 'Tis well — 'tis wise' — that we can- 
not pierce the veil which screens the events of fu- 
turity from our view ; for then we should be con- 
tinually distressed by the prospect of approaching 
calamity. Short indeed was the time of their union. 
But he has gone, I trust, to enjoy the favour of God 
for ever. May his bereaved companion be enabled 
to look beyond the narrow space that separates them, 
and rpjoi<*e in the hope of soon meeting him, where 
friends .sh;ill part no more for ever." 

Miss Foote had been in school only a few months 
when the feebleness of her health induced her to re- 
tire from its duties, and accept the invitation of her 
cousin, Mrs. T., to spend the winter in her family. 
This arrangement contributed greatly to her comfort. 
For several months she was unable to leave her room, 
and supposed to be on the borders of the grave. Re- 
lieved from anxiety on account of those entrusted to 
her care and her thoughts withdrawn from surround- 
ing objects, she meditated on that rest in reserve for 
the people of God. But the painful consciousness 



1!) 

that she was unprepared tor its enjoyment often de- 
pressed her spirits, and produced deep anxiety for 
a personal interest in the great salvation. She arose 
from the bed of sickness, with her heart softened, and 
with renewed desires after hoMness, and an entire 
consecration to the service of God. 

Her feelings at this period will he best described 
by an extract from a letter to one of her dear friends 

in Colchester. 

" New York, March 18, 1827. 

" While recording my afflictions, my dear friend, 
let me not neglect to mention the many mercies that 
have sweetened my cup, and to thank the Author of 
those mercies for all his goodness. Why, when so 
many around me were cut off, was I spared •. After 
suffering from a painful and dangerous illness, why 
was I restored to health and its attendant blessings, 

while others were suddenly deprived of life ? 

* * # # * 

" Can it indeed he true, that Colchester has be- 
come the seat of so much mirth and gayety .'' Can 
those who were so earnestly engaged in seeking their 
souls' salvation, and apparently took so much delight 
in religious exercises, now seek for enjoyment in the 
unhallowed and unsatisfying pleasures of a siniul 
world ? How changed — how sadly changed ! — 
But I trust the prayers of the true friends of Ziou 
will not ascend to Heaven in vain. Soon, I hope, 
your place will be again visited with the outpouring 
of God's Holy Spirit, and that those who are now 
so far estranged from the path of duty will see the 
error of their ways, and through grace obtain ever - 
lastintr life. — 



20 

" Your wishes for my eternal happiness were not 
read without emotion, and never, never will your 
letters be less welcome when religion shall be your 
theme. Would that I could sincerely tell you (for 
1 know that it would give you pleasure), that 1 live 
no more for the world — that 1 am daily advancing in 
holiness, and looking forward, with joy, to the time 
when I shall be free from these earthly tabernacles, 
and clothed with the robes of immortality ! But such 
is not my case. I dare not indulge the most trem- 
bling hope. And why should I, when giving no evi- 
dence that my heart is changed ? — It is true my feel- 
ings are in some degree altered, and I no longer find 
enjoyment in many things which once gave me plea- 
sure. When I can, with penitence and devotion, 
lift up my heart to Heaven's Mercy-seat — a peace and 
serenity steal over my mind, which at other times I 
seek in vain to enjoy. 

" At times I am deeply sensible of the uncer- 
tainty of life, and the awful realities attending a dying 
hour. But oh the deceitfulness and hardness of my 
heart. I do not. cannot feel as I would or as I ought. 
My dear R., will you not lemember me in your in- 
tercessions at the throne of mercy ? And whenever a 
prayer ascends for the well being of Margaretta, let 
the name of her friend mingle in your aspirations, 
and may He who turns not a deaf ear to the suppli- 
ant answer and bless you. 

" Your sincere and affectionate 

" Sarah Louisa." 
No language could convey a more vivid concep- 
tion of her spiritual state. With the utmost frank- 
ness, she gives expression to the deep emotions oi 



21 

her soul. A confik't was evidently going on within. 
Two opposing principles seem to be contending tor 
the ascendancy. She knew the right, was fully per- 
suaded of its inestimable value, yet was unwilling to 
lose her hold of the other. She looked upon the 
valley of death, when uncheercd by the bright rays 
of the everlasting Gospel, as a dreary scene ; while 
the natural alienation of her heart was such, that she 
refused to cast herself unreservedly upon God. On 
the first of May, her health was so far restored that 
she again entered school, as an associate teacher ; 
where she continued two years, diligent in the per- 
formance of her duties, and greeted with the appro- 
bation of those who entrusted their children to her 
care. — 

Miss Foote had for a long time been fully con- 
vinced of the supreme value of religion, and of the 
necessity of becoming a new creature in Christ Jesus, 
Her conscience had been enlightened and often 
powerfully affected, but those precious seasons of 
solemn and touching interest had passed away, leav- 
ing her destitute of pure and elevated enjoyment. 
Yet the great Shepherd of Israel, who never slum- 
bereth nor sleepeth, kept her under his watchful care, 
preserved her from numerous temptations, and, in a 
way that she little anticipated, brought her to a sav- 
ing knowledge of himself. 

During her residence in New York, she had found 
in her cousin, Mr. T., a valuable friend and counsellor 
He took a lively interest in her welfare, and was ever 
ready to afford her any assistance that might be 
requisite. She went to him as to a father, sought 
his advice in all trying cases, and literally made his 



22 

house her home. On tlic 1 1th of December, in 
the 34th year of his age, he was suddenly called 
from the scenes of earth. This was to Miss Foote 
one of those severely afflictive dispensations which 
witlidraws the soul from sublunary objects, and gives 
a new impress to the character. The aspect of 
every thing around her was changed, and though she 
could not address her heavenly Father as a recon- 
ciled God, she recognised his hand in the event, was 
solicitous to hear his voice and be directed in his 
holy ways. 

Her correspondence at this period bears ample 
testimony to the manner in which she was affected 
by the visitation — iier attachment to her departed 
friend, and deep sympathy with his surviving part- 
ner. Writing to her mother, Jan. 25, 1828, she 
says, " Death has visited our family, and torn from 
us one of its dearest and most valued members. 
Yes, our beloved cousin Lewis is a tenant of the 
cold grave. I need not tell you how deeply his loss 
lias been felt by his family and friends. All who 
knew him loved him. His memory will long be 
cherished with affection, respect, and gratitude. He 
sat up and conversed freely the evening before he 
died. How little did I think, that I was listening, 
for the last time, to that voice which had so often 
afforded me delight, and given me the most affec- 
tionate advice. 1 could not have gazed calmly on 
his much-loved countenance had I thought those 
expressive features were so soon to bear the stamp of 
the king of terrors. On taking leave I gave him 
my hand; he pressed it affectionately, and looked me 
full in the face. His last emphatic '^oo(/ nir/hV still 



23 

lings in my ears. Before the dawn of anotlier 
morninff he was in the eternal world. We have the 
unspeakable satisfaction of helievin<r that he sleeps 
in Jesus. He has left a circle of friends whose hearts 
were hound to him by the strongest ties, for the 
society of angels, and the spirits of just men made 
perfect — a world of sin, sorrow, and disappointment, 
for one of infinite happiness and unfading glory. 
During his illness, a great change took place in his 
views and feelings. He was led to believe and re- 
joice in the blessed Jesus. Never was there a more 
upright, moral, or charitable man, but he did not 
found his hopes of salvation on his own good works 
— he trusted solely in the merits of the Redeemer, 
and, I doubt not, was supported through the dark 
valley of the shadow of death, by that Almighty 
Friend who will be his portion for ever. I trust 
that this afflicting event will teach us all the uncer- 
tainty of life, and its fairest prospects; and the great 
importance of living in constant readiness for our last 
great change. Truly in the midst of life we are in 
death !" 

In a letter to her sister, dated Feb. 1.5, she dwells 
on the same subject, and gives some additional par- 
ticulars. " On Monday, Dec. 3, cousin Lewis 
walked twice to his office — the last time he was un- 
able to reach home without assistance. He said to 
cousin MaVy that evening, ' I am impressed with the 
idea that this is to be my last sickness. Should this 
be the case, bear it with all possible fortitude, — pre- 
pare yourself for the event. As for me I have suffi- 
cient to do to make my peace with my Maker.' He 
read much in the Bible, and engaged frequently and 



24 

fervently in prayer. The leading subject of his 
petitions was — that his heart might be changed, 
and made fit for the residence of the Holy Spirit. 
After an affecting season of religious conversation 
and prayer, he retired, and the Lord in great mercy 
lifted the light of his countenance upon him. Cousin 
Mary approached his bedside, and asked him how 
he felt? With every feature of his pale countenance 
beaming celestial radiance, he said, ' I am rejoicing 
every moment.' ' In what, she said, are you rejoic- 
ing?' In the hope, that through Christ I have 
found pardon of sin, and acceptance with God." To 
this she remarked, ' I hope that you are not deceived.' 
*Oh no, he replied, I trust I am not deceived — I feel 
that 1 am a new man in Christ Jesus.' 

To one already awakened to the painful conscious- 
ness of iicr own perilous condition, without an interest 
in the Saviour, a close view of death and eternity 
could not fail to produce thriUing emotions. Some of 
her absent friends improved the occasion, by direct- 
ing her thoughts to the source of everlasting consola- 
tion. The following letter from a young lady, with 
whom she had been intimate at the Academy, gives 
pleasing evidence of the writer's solicitude, that her 
friend should enjoy richer blessings than earth can 
ever bestow. 

" Colchester, January 14, 1828. 

" I do, my dear S., most truly and affectionately 
sympathise with you in your recent affliction. I can 
easily conceive, that all the tender susceptibilities of 
vour heart have been moved by the death of this 
friend, to whom you looked to as to a father. — When 
the grave has closed for ever upon one of those dear 



25 

as life to our souls, and we tccl that his society can 
no longer enliven, nor his kindness smooth our rough 
passage through this world of sorrow ; — when we 
recollect the ten thousand instances of iiis undissem- 
bled love, and at the same time reflect, that where 
we are he can never come— that ' he is not,' for God 
has taken him, our hearts are ready to hurst within 
us, our souls are in anguish at the affecting recol- 
lections. Still, my friend, would we, if it were in 
our power, recall our departed friends who have died 
in the Lord, to this state of suft'ering, to sigh and 
groan with us, to have their hearts rent with our 
sorrows as well as their own ? Oh no, we rather 
rejoice that they have entered on a state of endless 
and uninterrupted enjoyment, — that they have gone 
to be for ever with the Lord, and fervently pray 
that we may be prepared to join them, ' though it be 
by fire. 

" This event, you tell me, has stamped vanity upon 
every earthly enjoyment. I trust the remembrance 
of it will always be vivid before you. Yes, Sarah, 
it is painfully true, that this world is a state of sor- 
row and sufi'ering. All earthly hopes and prospects 
may fade in a moment. We cling to one object after 
another, and, untill compelled by sad experience, do 
not realize that there is but one object worthy of our 
love. — I can look back to days of joy and of grief. 
I have basked in the sunshine of prosperity, and felt 
the keen rude blasts of adversity. I have enjoyed 
friends, true and tried, and have trusted to those 
whom a winter's storm has driven from me. I have 
mingled in the gay and giddy circle, and have stood 
and watched by the bed of sickness and of death, 



26 

I liave lasted tlic most unalloyed earthly pleasures, 
ajul iny heart has been broken and rent asunder. 
May I not then be credited in declaring, that reli- 
gion alone can support us in life, comfort us in 
death, and render us eternally happy beyond the 
grave. Try it, my Sarah, and you will have no 
cause for regret. 

" Your affectionate Mary E." 

Those may be regarded as blessed with a distin- 
guished privilege who, in the time of affliction, have 
such a friend to suggest to their minds the inestim- 
able value of divine truth, and by the soothing power 
of friendship, to aid in preparing for permanent and 
unalloyed felicity. Miss Foote was not insensible 
to the kindness which prompted these suggestions, 
nor to the solicitude for her immortal welfare mani- 
fest in every line. It will be a subject of regret to 
all wiio peruse this memoir, that her reply, together 
with other valuable letters to the same friend, was a 
short time since accidentally consumed. — To another 
friend and former schoolmate she communicated, on 
the 14th of April, an interesting account of her per- 
sonal history, with the various aspects in which the 
dispensations of Providence were unfolded to her 
view. 

" My ever dear E., — How many fond recollections 
of the "• days of other times ' did the perusal of your 
letter awaken ! Those were indeed ' halcyon days ' 
'free from care and iree from strife.' In those days 
1 formed many attachments, some of which I firmly 
believe will never weaken. No, though time, absence. 



27 

and adversity combine, they will never give place to 
acquaintances of a day — The friends whom I then 
loved still retain the same place in my heart. You 
must not suppose I have since formed no friendships ; 
that would l)c unlike mc. You are aware that 1 
cannot reside long in any place without becoming in- 
terested in those with whom I have intercourse. 

" You bid mc give my history for the past year — 
It will recall many hours of pleasure, and a greater 
number of bitterness. When I say of pleasure, I refer 
to the pleasure of friendship w'itli one who had prov- 
ed worthy of my gratitude and my love, who. from 
my first coming here, had manifested the regard and 
attention of the most affectionate brother — who has 
been my guide, my counsellor, my confidant in every 
thing, ray friend. 

" VVhen I mention hours of anguish, I allude to 
the feelings experienced, when I looked upon this 
friend and saw his features without expression — his 
form without animation, and clad in the habiliments 
of the grave — I allude to the sensations which per- 
vaded every nerve, when I cast the last look upon 
his altered countenance, just before he was con- 
signed to the narrow house appointed for all the 
living. 

" At that time, dear E., I felt the vanity and 
realized the uncertainty of every earthly good, and 
was astonished, that I could ever have been so strongly 
attached to objects unworthy of my regard, that I 
could ever have planned with confidence scenes of 
future happiness, when I ought to have remembered, 
that the events of one hour often frustrate the 
schemes of many years — when I ought to have re- 



28 

fiected that we know not what a day may bring 
forth. In view of such considerations, I have felt, 
that nothing but religion was wortli seeking or pos- 
sessing — What else can heal the lacerated heart, or 
produce calmness and holy acquiescence in the midst 
of overwhelming sorrow t What scene can be more 
melting tlian to see the strongest ties dissolved by 
death — a most fond and indulgent husband and 
father torn from the embrace of those he loved, and 
committed to the silent grave ! What but reUgion 
can enable us to take a consoling view of these heart- 
rending events — can point us to a meeting with the 
followers of the Lamb, a meeting blissful and eter- 
nal '^ Thanks be to the Giver of every good, with 
reference to our departed friend ' we sorrow not as 
liiose without hope.' The sting of death was re- 
moved, he triumphed in view of the glories that 
awaited him, and we doubt not is uniting with the 
spirits of just men made perfect, in ascribing thanks- 
giving and praises to that Saviour who redeemed him 
by his own precious blood." 

" Tuesday Evening. 

" I have often thought of you, my beloved E., since 
I read your letter, and became acquainted with 
your feelings and resolutions on the most important 
of all concerns, the interests of your immortal soul. 
Oh that I could see you, and unite with you in 
seeking salvation, in imploring forgiveness of sin, 
and supplicating strength to persevere, and grace to 
humble. I am more antl more convinced of the 
realities of religion, and am striving, by Divine assis- 
tance, to lay hold of that hope, that blessed hope, 



29 

whicli the Gospel inspires. Would tint I could be 
with you to be encouraged by your example, streng- 
thened by unreserved intercourse, that we might 
walk hand in hand, and heart united with heart, in 
the narrow path that leads to eternal blessedness. — 
What is life? what are all the splendour, the gayety, 
the apparent enjoyment which we observe around 
us? AH is vanity. What is tJie end of the same, 
but sorrow, lamentation, and mourning? How soon 
the cold grave will encircle these votaries of earthly 
things ! We need more forcibly to realize, that ' In 
the midst of life we are in death.' 

" You speak of our dear Mrs. V. I heard of her 
death from my valued correspondent, M. E. C, and 
received from her an obituary notice. When you 
think of the close of her existence, of the brightness 
of her hope, and the strength of her faith, does it not 
encourage you to persevere ? Does not your heart 
burn within you to imitate her example, to tread in 
her footsteps ? Could I be assured that my peace 
was made with heaven, I would be content to spend 
my days in the humblest station.— Were the Saviour 
indeed my friend, oh transporting thought ! what 
would be all the sorrows, the disappointments, the 
trials of this vain world ? — Though separated in body, 
let us, my dear friend, be united in spirit. We have 
the assurance that where two or three are agreed 
together respecting any thing, and ask it of their 
heavenly Father, it shall be granted. Let us take 
encouragement and daily supplicate for each other, 
that we may through Divine grace overcome every 
obstacle, that the time may soon arrive when we 
shall be united not only by the bonds of friendship, 



but by tbe stronger ties of christian love, when we 
shall have one heart, one hope, one heaven. 

"Your truly affectionate Sarah L ." 

Mrs. Vose, to whom allusion is made in the pre- 
ceding letter, was a favourite instructor and christian 
friend of Miss Foote. IShe died at the residence of 
her father, the Hon. John Vose, in Pembroke, N. 
H., February 5, 1828. " Few females have lived 
more justly respected, or died more deeply lamented. 
Blest with pious parents and a religious education, 
she was early the subject of serious impressions, but 
the charms of literature, the pleasures of taste and 
imagination, and the allurements of fashionable so- 
ciety, took such hold of her mind as to prevent her, 
for a long time, from yielding to the self-denying 
influence of our holy religion. 

" In 1 82 1, while presiding over a group of young 
ladies in Pembroke Academy, she felt her responsi- 
bihty as she had never done before. She saw her 
own guilt and the danger of her beloved pupils while 
out of Christ. But if she exhorted them to flee 
from the coming wrath, she feared they might justly 
reply. Physician, heal thyself! By the transforming 
influence of the Holy Spirit, she was led in deep 
humility to the Saviour's cross, and to an entire 
consecration of all her powers to the service of her 
Lord and Master. — In 1823, she was married to 
Mr. Francis Vose, and passed the remainder of her 
days, untill the failure of her health, at Colchester, 
Conn., and Charlestown, Mass., associated with hini 
in the business of instruction. By the faithful dis- 
charge of her duty, her condescending and affection- 



31 

ate treatment of her pupils, and lier deep solicitude 
lor their future welfare, she was strongly endeared 
to their hearts. Her friends were cheered in her 
sickness by her christian submission, heavenly calm- 
ness, and pious conversation. As the night of 
death drew near, her countenance evidently bright- 
ened, assuming a placid and smiling aspect, which 
seemed to tell of joys to come. The parting scene 
was melting, was overwhelming to all but the dying 
saint. With a full conviction that the termination 
of her life was at hand, she spoke of ' the comfort of 
a trust in the Saviour,' and, observing her sisters in 
tears, requested them 'not to weep for her, but to 
prepare to die.'" 

Miss Foote may be ranked among the number of 
those who, through much tribulation, are brought 
to a just apprehension of divine things. She watched 
and sympathised with others when her own heart 
was in heaviness. Yet beams of mercy were visible 
in all her trials. Joy and sorrow were mingled in 
her cup. About this time she received the gratify- 
ing information, that a beloved sister, bound to her 
heart by those endearing ties, which no separation, 
110 diversity of sentiment can diminish, was strength- 
ened to cast herself unreservedly upon the Lord, and 
embrace with animated faith the precious promises. 
No intelligence of worldly prosperity could have 
awakened in her mind such emotions. " Her feel- 
ings of joy were indescribable." Who does not per- 
ceive that the Lord was mercifully preparing her, tor 
those communications of his grace by which her 
subsequent life was cheered? This sister, the only 
one that now survives, was extremely solicitous that 



32 

.•;he should fully realize the exceedinjr riches of the 
Divine compassion, and participate in the hiessings of 
the Gospel. She placed in her hands a tract of the 
most persuasive and awakening kind, and called her 
attention in an especial manner to its contents. 
Sarah, in acknowledging its receipt, remarks, " I 
thank you for the tract that you sent me. I read 
it attentively, and I trust prayerfully. I do not 
think that 1 have indeed chosen the good part, hut 
feel more and more my need of it, and am deeply 
affected in view of my lost state by nature, and the 
necessity of applying to the only fountain that can 
cleanse me from my guilt. 1 long to spend a larger 
portion of my time in solitude. Very frequently I 
am obliged to hear and join in conversation in which 
ray heart cannot participate. I hope and pray that 
I may be truly penitent, that my heart may be bro- 
ken on account of sin, that it may be subdued and 
weaned from the world. I am persuaded that reli- 
gion is all that is worth living for. It is my first and 
highest wish that I may experience its consolations 
and perform its duties." 



CHAPTER III. 

Visit to Connecticut — Strivings of the Holy Spirit — Harlan Page 
— Pastonil Fidelity — Description of the Christian character — 

Peace and joy in believing — Letters to IMiss N Important 

Resolution. 

In August, Miss Foote visited her beloved home, 
and once more min<rled her feeling's with those who 



33 

surrounded her father's table. The trials, vicissitudes, 

and afflictions ot" the past year would naturally pass 

in review. She often recurred to the relitrious anxiety 

she had cherished, rcco^^nised the kind hand of an 

overruling Providence, and expressed the strong 

conviction that she should yet rejoice in God her 

Saviour. 

It will be seen from the tenor of the preceding 

remarks, that the concerns of her soul had acquired a 

firmer hold of her attention, that she could no longer 

remain at ease without a well-grounded confidence 

that her peace was made with God. The autumn 

of 1828, and following winter, beheld in her one of 

the severest conflicts in which a mortal has engaged. 

To those who have never felt the renewing power of 

Divine crace, or the exceeding sinfulness of the human 

heart, it will doubtless appear strange, that one so 

amiable, and endowed with so many lovely qualities, 

should need that decided and thorough change of 

which the Bible speaks. Indeed, previous to this 

time she seems not to have been fully conscious, how 

far she was from the kingdom of God. By the energy 

of the Holy Spirit, a new view of her character was 

unfolded, one from which she could not turn away. 

The light of eternal truth broke in upon her. She 

saw the vileness of her heart, and wept in secret 

places. Her conviction of the heinousness of her 

sins became truly agonizing. She knew not whence 

to obtain relief. Under the influence of these 

feelings the following lines were addressed to her 

sister : — 

New York, Oct. 29, 1828. 

"' Oh my dear sister, it would be a comfort to mc 
B 2 



34 

if I could see you and tell you what I passed through 
the last week — I will not attempt to describe with 
my pen what have been my sensations. There have 
been times when, had you been with me, you would 
have mingled your tears and your prayers with mine. 
— With trembling hand and with tearful eyes do I 
assure you that I have experienced feelings which I 
never knew before, and yet I seem as far from the 
Saviour as ever. If conversation with christians, if 
their prayers or my own could afford relief, I should 
not remain in my present state. But my proud re- 
bellious heart refuses to bow. Let me enjia'^e in 
whatever I will I cannot escape from myself, I am 
unhappy, yes, miserable. « * * 

" Whatever may be the result of the present con- 
flict, and however widely we may differ in sentiment, 
it will be my fervent prayer that you may be happy, 
happy in the only way in which true happiness can 
be found, in a humble trust in the Saviour. When 
these things occupy my mind, a gleam of joy will some- 
times dart throujih it, from the thought that nothinj; 
will divide us in another world; that there we shall 
sec clearly and alike. No doubt or division will ever 
enter those blessed mansions. — Presumptuous as it 
may seem, even in ray greatest distress, I have, as 
1 told you last summer, a secret hope, a hope that 
nothing will overcome — that I shall yet rejoice in God 
my Saviour. Pray for me that such may be the case, 
that I may persevere, and overcome every obstacle. 

"Your affectionate sister, Sarah ." 

I find among the papers of Miss Foote, a note 
without date, evidently addressed to Mrs. T., and 



35 

euclosinsr some of her husband's hair. From an 
allusion which it contains to the period that had 
elapsed since his death, it was probably written about 
this time. 

" When I gaze upon the contents of the enclosed 
paper, ray dearest cousin, it causes emotions to swell 
my breast, and gives rise to thoughts which I cannot 
express. One short year ago, who would have 
thought of this ! and yet almost a year has passed 
away since we cast a last, a lingering look upon his 
clay-cold features, or heard the sound of his much- 
loved voice. How often have my fingers passed 
through these locks, when they covered his throbbing 
temples. How often have I listened with attention, 
and almost with reverence, while he gave me the 
most affectionate advice. Never shall I forget his 
counsel or his kindness. Though years should roll 
away and leave me still on the shores of time, they 
will never efface from my mind his form or his friend- 
ship. One look at these dear relics is sufficient to 
revive every recollection in all its force. But when 
I think of him as he was, and as he is, my thoughts 
do not follow him to the grave and then leave him. 
Oh no, my mind insensibly soars above all transitory 
things, and dwells with delight on the glorious hope 
he has left us. — At such times, my dear cousin, not 
even his bereaved family can claim a thought — earth 
and its concerns are trifles. — To think of his release 
from them all, of his infinite happiness and unfading 
glory, and then turn again to the objects that surround 
me, my heart sickens. I do sincerely desire to be 
prepared to meet him ; to be assured of an inheritance 
iu a better world. Then earth should disturb me uo 



36 

more. I would look forward with joy to my final re- 
lease. May tlic time soon come when we shall both 
have that assurance ; when we shall anticipate the 
hour of death as one that will release us from sin 
and sorrow, and unite us to those we have loved, to 
be separated from them no more for ever." 

The wish expressed in the conclusion of the pre- 
ceding note appears to have been soon gratified, so far 
as it related to Mrs. T. A letter from Miss Foote 
to her sister, dated the third of January, 1829, con- 
tains the pleasing information. " Let me add one 
thing which will give you joy. Cousin Mary has 
found peace in believing. She now can say that ' she 
is Christ's and Christ is hers.' " 

That period in the life of individuals, in which 
the vain allurements of earth are relinquished, and a 
relish acquired for the enjoyment of holy beings, can- 
not be recurred to without the most aifecting interest. 
It is often marked by circumstances which fix the 
recollection of it deep in the mind. The impression 
made is solemn and powerful. It is the commence- 
ment of a new era in their existence, in which the 
soul is released from the bondage of sin, and admitted 
to the glorious liberty of the sons of God. The light 
of God's countenance is lifted upon them. They 
know from blessed experience what it is to pass from 
death unto life, and how great is the happiness of 
that man whose sins are forgiven. Yet such is the 
waywardness of the human heart, and so great the 
reluctance to make a full surrender to the Lord, that 
the transition from nature to grace, frequently unfolds 
a scene which calls for the liveliest commiseration. 
The soul bowed down in anguish seems to ask of all 



37 

that are moving on thoughtlessly in a sinful career, 
" Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by ? Behold 
and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow!" 
" May not you be involved in the same danger which 
stares rae in the face ^ I have present evidence of 
my guilt. 1 feel its keenest pangs. Is it certain that 
you will always be exempt? Think it not strange 
that 1 have hung my harp upon the willows, that I 
have forsaken those paths in which I formerly walked. 
The terrors of the Almighty laid hold upon me. I 
no longer love the ways in which ray heart delighted, 
and which once seemed right. The end thereof are 
the ways of death. Is not the same true of your 
ways ? Can you be uninterested or unfeeling spec- 
tators when the Lord's hand is upon me?" 

In this manner the Lord wounds that he may heal. 
He softens the hard and flinty heart that it may be- 
come a fit residence for the Holy Spirit. He humbles 
awakened sinners in the dust, by a deep and painful 
consciousness of the enormity of sin, shows them the 
disorder they have produced in the best of govern- 
ments, convinces them that remaining in their pre- 
sent condition, they will be banished eternally from 
his presence. They read their condemnation in 
every page of the sacred volume. Gladly would they 
conceal themselves from the piercing glance of Jeho- 
vah, but they cannot flee even from themselves. The 
irreversible sentence of their final Judge seems to 
ring in their ears. Cut off from hope — their peace 
destroyed — death and destruction before them, they 
water their couch with their tears. There is no sor- 
row like unto that of a troubled conscience — No dan- 
gar so appalling as that awakened by the fear of fall- 



38 

ing into the hanJs of an offended God. They mourn 
for the loss of God — tlie loss of hoUness — tlie loss of 
heaven — These all united in one thought — the loss 
of their souls. 

The reader will perceive the hearing of these 
remarks with reference to Miss Foote. They were 
suggested from a contemplation of the development 
of her feelings and character at the period to which 
we have arrived. Their application to her expe- 
rience will appear the more striking when the pre- 
vious state of her mind is considered. She had long 
heen interested in conversation about divine things; 
her letters give no slight indications that religion was 
a favourite topic, that she appreciated its claims, re- 
joiced in witnessing its influence, and was solicitous 
to make a wise improvement of each afflictive event. 
She seemed to all her acquaintance destined to he a 
gem in the Redeemer's crown. Who can form 
an adequate conception of the deceitfulness of the 
human heart ? This amiable and affectionate indi- 
vidual was extremely reluctant to humble herself be- 
fore the cross. The opposition of the carnal mind 
to the requisitions of the Gospel was clearly displayed. 
Yes, strange as it may appear, when the holiness of 
the Divine character, the sovereignty of Jehovah, and 
her absolute dependence for every thing upon free 
unmerited grace, were distinctly unfolded, she would 
fain have turned from the contemplation, and obtained 
relief in her distress from other sources. When the 
Holy Spirit arrayed before her in a conspicuous man- 
ner all that is affecting in the ingratitude and hard- 
ness of heart by which the offers of mercy are re- 
jected, she still clung to her selfish idols. Yet she 



39 

could not endure the thought of being considered 
opposed to the Divine government, and wished that 
her intimate friends should not know liow severe a 
conflict was going on within. For a while she in- 
dul'^ed herself in gay society, to banish, if possible, 
her overwhelming convictions of the enormity of sin, 
and her alienation from God. This expedient, how- 
ever it might avail for the passing moment, left her 
in a more deplorable state than ever. She was miser- 
able wherever she went, and even formed the deter- 
mination to decline all intercourse with religious 
people. " I could not bear the idea," she says, in 
writing to her sister, " of conversing with any person 
respecting my feelings. I considered them sacred, 
and resolved to confine them to ray own bosom." 

To this resolution, though as she afterwards thought 
to her own injury, shefaithfuliy adhered untill, in an un- 
expected and providential manner, she was drawn into 
conversation, and induced to disclose the movements 
of her mind, on the most important of all subjects. 
In ailudinij to her former reserve, she thus writes : 
" Why is it, my dear sister, that while nearly all will 
acknowledge the importance of religion over every 
thing else, yet when they have a conviction of sin, 
of righteousness, and of judgment to come, they shrink 
from an avowal of their feelings, and even seek to 
conceal them as though they were degrading? Why 
is it that a feeling of shame is expressed by the 
countenance, if not felt when addressed on the sub- 
ject?" 

The person to whom she communicated her feel- 
ings, and who manifested so lively an interest in her 
eternal welfare, was the devoted and indefatigable 



40 

Harlan Page. He visited her frequently, and de- 
scribed, in a vivid and toucliing manner, the danger of 
her continuing impenitent, and the greatness of the 
Saviour's compassion. He urged the necessity of 
her giving her heart to the Lord, engaging actively 
in duty, and living with habitual reference to the 
glory of God. Perceiving that she possessed qualities 
admirably adapted for enlisting the affections of others, 
and guiding them in the most desirable channel, he 
directed her thoughts to the salvation of those within 
the sphere of her influence. " Can you not, savs he, 
think of dear friends, who you arc anxious should 
become sharers in the blessings of the Gospel? Does 
not your mind rest on many whom you can warn of 
their danger and urjje to attend to tlie salvation of 
their souls ?" Few have been more persevering in 
efforts for the spiritual benefit of others than this 
faithful individual. His spirit has already taken its 
flight to the paradise of God ; but his memory is 
embalmed in many a grateful heart. He left his 
friends the comforting dying testimony, " I com- 
mend myself to thee, Jesus, Saviour of sinners. O 
the infinite love of Christ ! I may stop my mouth 
and lie in the dust." 

From a letter of a later date than the preceding 
interviews, we find Miss Foote still a stranger to that 
peace which the Lord only can bestow. 

" When I am left by myself, my mind dwells with 
such intense interest on the solemn concerns of my 
immortal soul, that nothing appears so strange, as that 
even the most important of the things of earth should 
engross my attention. It is indeed an awful inf^itua- 
tion — I know not a moment's peace. Formerly I 



41 

thought it was an eaty thing to be a christian, and 
beheved that I should, at some future day, experience 
that change of which I had heard others speak. Now 
that hope is swept away, not a vestige remains. It 
I had been really desirous of a reconciliation with 
God, why did I not years ago become his servant i 
Will not the light that has been shed upon my mind, 
and the instruction that I have received, aggravate 
my guilt ? I have been more solicitous to pry into 
the mysteries of Providence, and become acquainted 
with the secret ))urposes of Jehovah, than to follow 
the path of duty."- 

About this time the Rev. Mr. Fraser took charge 
of the congregation to which she was attached, in 
whom she found a pastor well qualified to direct her 
mind on spiritual subjects. She considered him a 
man of deep religious experience, intimately ac- 
quainted with the movements of the human heart, 
and able to speak a word in season, adapted to the 
condition of those with whom he conversed. At 
first she declined an interview with him, determining 
if possible not to increase her condemnation by re- 
ceiving additional religious light. She afterwards 
met him, by appointment, at the house of her cousin 
Mrs. T., and freely unfolded to him the rebellious 
state of her heart. He was much affected by the 
disclosure, and addressed her in a most solemn and 
pathetic manner, reminding her of her awfully peril- 
ous condition, and of the reason there was to appre- 
hend, that if she persisted in her present career, 
lamentable consequences would ensue. He portrayed 
by the strong light of eternal truth, the aggravated 
guilt of those who seemed at war with Heaven, 



42 

opposing the counsels of Jehovah, and rushing heed- 
lessly in the path to ruin. Her heart was broken 
on account of sin. She resorted with increased con- 
fidence to a tlirone of grace, and sought continually 
for strength to yield herself entirely to the Lordj 
and be resigned to his holy will. The Lord," she 
observes, "in boundless mercy, convinced me that 
secret things belong to the Most High, but revealed 
things to us for our belief, submission, and obedience." 
In subsequent communications to her sister, she 
speaks in strong terms of the faithfulness of her 
pastor, his dihgence in visiting from house to house, 
and her regard for him as the chief instrument em- 
ployed by the Holy Spirit in conducting her to the 
paths of peace. At his request, she communicated 
to him in writing her views of the christian character. 
They are here presented, from the belief that they 
afford evidence of her advancement in divine know- 
ledge, and contain many thoughts on which indivi- 
duals in the early stages of a religious life may dwell 
with profit. 

" A christian is one who exercises repentance 
towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 
He is indeed a new creature. Not that his natural 
powers and faculties are changed, but a new principle 
of action is implanted in his heart by the Holy 
Ghost, which transforms the affections, motives, and 
desires, from sin to holiness. — He has an abiding 
sense of his own weakness, and continual depend- 
ence upon his heavenly Parent. In every object 
and event he recognises an almiglity hand. Does 
he observe the wild commotion of the elements — 
lie refers it to the power of Him who maketh the 



43 

clouds his chariot, and rideth upon the wings of the 
wind. Does he gaze upon the murmuring rivulet — 
there too he traces the finger of the Creator, and 
' looks through nature up to nature's God.' Is he 
prosperous in his worldly affairs — he gratefully 
adores a bountiful Providence, and endeavours to use 
his possessions as not abusing them. Are his earthly 
comforts removed; is he bereft of tender and 
beloved friends — he acknowledges the hand of 
God in every dispensation ; and remembers that 
whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth 
every son whom he receiveth. 

" The christian is humble, ever solicitous not to 
think of himself more highly than he ought. He 
assumes no borrowed appearance, but desires to be 
taken for what he really is. He will often practise 
self-examination, and scrutinise the motives by which 
he is actuated. When in the eyes of the world he 
appears upright and consistent, he will see in his 
own heart much to deplore. Yes, when retired from 
the observation of every earthly being, he will hum- 
ble himself in the dust, and implore forgiveness for 
those sins which are known only to God. — His pre- 
vailing temper is heavenly, and opportunities for 
communion with his God and Saviour will be 
cherished with delight. These holy exercises will 
be accompanied by corresponding actions. Sin will 
be abhorred, not only because it brought death into 
the world and all our woe, but because it is dishon- 
ourable to God, and odious in his sight. Hence the 
christian will seek, through Divine assistance, to sub- 
due those natural passions and inclinations which 
so often lead him astray. He is convinced that he 



4.4 

cannot serve two masters, and feels the necessity of 
living above the world, and striving to be no longer 
conformed to its spirit, governed by its precepts, or 
intimidated by its frowns. He is not satisfied with 
merely endeavouring to refrain from sin, but will seek 
to perform every christian duty. His fervent prayer 
will be, Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? And 
when convinced of the course marked out by Infinite 
Wisdom, he will commence it with vigour, and pro- 
ceed with unwearied diligence ; wiUing to spend 
and be spent in his Master's service, and desiring 
that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus 
Christ. He is persuaded that it is not for his hap- 
piness alone that the Lord has had mercy upon him, 
and granted him the consoling hope of having passed 
from death unto life. He deeply feels for the im- 
mortal souls of those with whom he has daily inter- 
course, and not for them oidy, but for a world 
lying in wickedness. His compassionate regard 
will be evinced by constant exertions to promote 
their spiritual welfare. 

'" The conversation of a christian is holy. No 
one has a claim to the name or privileges of a child 
of God whose thougiits do not dwell with lively 
interest upon things spiritual and divine. And if 
from the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh, 
can he be silent on those heavenly themes? When 
addressed upon them, a glow of shame will not 
suffuse his cheek, nor will he, by impatience or 
inattention, give reason for inferring that the subject 
is irksome or unpleasant. — Love is the prevailing 
spirit of his heart. He is connected with his chris- 
tian brethren by a bond of union and sympathy far 



45 

stronger than that which unites the nearest earthly 
relatives, who are strangers to the love of God. 
Sensible of his own proneness to err, he cannot be 
severe or unfeeling in noticing the imperfections of 
others. Has he received an injury from a fellow 
being — he will forgive as he desires to be forgiven. 
Nor can he withhold his cliristian sympathy from 
those who do not agree with him in every point of 
doctrine, if he sees reason to believe that they are 
experimentally acquainted with the great truths of 
the Gospel. He looks forward to the time when they 
shall be alike freed from the mists of ignorance and 
error, from the influence of prejudice and unhal- 
lowed feeling; when they shall unite together with 
the countless multitude, in ascribing thanksgiving 
and praise to Him who loved them and gave himself 
a ransom for them. — Though here his knowledge is 
limited, and he sees only through a glass darkly, yet 
he enjoys a foretaste of that blessedness which God 
has prepared for those that love him. Death is 
divested of its sting. The grave has no terrors. 
To the one he looks forward as a release from sin, 
and a prelude to an eternal union with his Redeemer; 
to the other as a quiet resting place, untill this cor- 
ruptible shall put on incorruption, this mortal shall 
put on immortahty, and death be swallowed up in 
victory. 

" March 8, 1829 S. L. F." 

We are now to contemplate Miss Foote, as pos- 
sessing some of the linci^ments of that character 
which she so beautifully describes. She had been 
down in the vale of sorrow\ Her tears had been her 



46 

meat day and night. The Lord in tender compassion 
brought iicr to the foot of the cross, melted her soul 
into contrition, and afforded her his gracious assist- 
ance to lay hold of the precious promise of eternal 
life, through faith in his beloved Son. The tirst 
notice of this change found in her writings, is con- 
tained in a letter to her sister, dated April 5, 1829. 

" I trembUngly hope that I have found peace in 
believing. Rejoice with and pray for me, and for 
all who are dear to us. O, my sister, can we believe 
that all who are not born of the Spirit will not see 
life, and yet make no exertion to arrest the progress 
and turn the course of those associated with us who 
are in the path to ruin? When I reflect on the 
subject, I long to be engaged in doing something for 
their benefit, and pray that the path of duty may be 
made plain, and that I may have a zeal according to 
knowledge. I would gladly spend the time of my 
sojourning here in the service of God. Pray for me 
that I may persevere, and through Divine assistance 
conquer every evil propensity, and glorify in life and 
death the Saviour who died for us." 

These lines, though written under the impulse of 
newly-awakened feelings, and while her thoughts 
would naturally rest with peculiar vividness on the 
scenes through which she had recently passed, dis- 
cover a mind intent on the future, alive to the wel- 
fare of others, and resolved to spend its strength in 
the best of causes. Her prevailing desire was to 
know the will of God, and to walk conformably to 
its dictates. — She could not endure the thought of 
being an idle loiterer in the vineyard of Jehovah, 
but looked around her, as if a new world had burst 



47 

upon her view, to ascertain where she could exert the 

most salutary influence. Every step was taken in a 

cautious manner, and accompanied with prayer for 

Divine guidance, lest her efforts should he injurious 

rather than heneficial. Her attention was directed 

first to one friend, and then to another, whom she 

might hope to aid in preparing for a hetter world. 

After some hesitation, she addressed a heloved cousin, 

with whom she had previously corresponded, and who 

was anxiously enquiring, what she should do to be 

saved. 

«' New York, April 10, 1829. 

"My dear E. — Within the last week I have several 
times felt constrained to address you, but a feeling which 
I could not or did not overcome induced me to delay ; 
and now that my pen is resumed what shall I say? 
Shall I assure you that you still retain the same place 
as formerly in my affection, though no communication 
has for a long time passed between us? Such an 
assurance is unnecessary. But I do hope we shall 
be enabled henceforward to call each other by a more 
endearing name than friend or cousin, even sisters in 
Christ. I know not how to express my feelings ; 
sister H. has only said sufficient for me to infer 
that your attention is again called to your eternal 
interests. Perhaps, my beloved E., you are now re- 
joicing in Redeeming love, and are ready to declare 
to all around you what you trust the Lord by his 
Holy Spirit has done for you. Or it may be, that 
you are still tasting the wormwood and the gall ; if 
the latter be the case, 1 can from past experience 
sympathise with you. But at the same time would 
point, yea, lead you to the Lamb of God, to Him 



48 

who is stooping to embrace you, and unfold to you 
the unspeakable riches of his grace — I would as by 
force, detain you from doing as I have done — I 
would in love ask you, if you are not looking for 
something more than the simplicity of the Gospel. 
You think you are willing to give up all the world 
for an interest in Christ, and desire that every idol 
to which you cling, though dear to you as a right 
eye, may be banished from your heart. Would you 
hesitate to go to Christ, if you could yourself pay 
your ransom, or even palliate your guilt ? Would 
you refrain from going to him, and acknowledging 
your transgressions, if you believed that thereby you 
would be accepted, and become reconciled to him ? 

" Dear E., we must feel our helplessness as well 
as our sinfulness, or we can never come in a right 
manner. If we could receive pardon without an 
entire renunciation of every merit of our own, we 
should not feel as we ought, we could not give God 
the glory, and rest without fear or doubt on his faith- 
fulness and compassion. Is it not astonishing that, 
after such displays of Divine love and goodness, we 
can doubt cither the ability or willingness of Christ 
to receive us? Are you never pierced, like an arrow 
to the heart, when you think of the privileges you 
have enjoyed, of the instructions you have received, 
of the merey you have slighted, and especially the 
forbearance of your God ? When you reflect on 
these things, and know that they must increase your 
condemnation, are you not overwhelmed? Look 
away from yourself to the great Physician; he will 
make you whole. Pray for confidence in God, and 
that he will grant you the aid of the Holy Spirit, 



49 

convince you of sin, righteousness, and juclirment ; 
show you your true state, and lead you to tlic Lord 
of life and glory. It is only in the path of duty that 
we can expect peace or the light of God's counte- 
nance. If we nejrlect it darkness and doubt will 
invariably follow." 

To the same friend she wrote again on the 23d 
of April: — 

" My dear E., — The perusal of your letter, espe- 
cially the part of it which related to your own feelings, 
excited my warmest sympathy. How exactly do your 
feelings correspond with mine, with what mine for- 
merly were; yes, recently, for it is but a short time 
since I indulged a trembling hope that I had indeed 
fled to the only Refuge, that I had surrendered myself 
unreservedly to Him who has declared, ' Him that 
cometli unto me I will in no wise cast out.' I 
assure you that from my heart I rejoiced in your 
resolution — ' I am determined to be a christian.' 
Press forward, my dear cousin, persevere, and He 
who has begun a good work in your heart will carry 
it on until! the day of redemption. Now let me ask 
you why you have not peace? I will venture to 
answer from my own experience — There is some- 
thing in your heart which has never yet been given 
up, a certain indescribable feeling, at variance with 
God, which, however humbly and impassionately, 
you may say, ' Here, Lord, I give myself to thee, 
'tis all that I can do,' still remains. I well know 
what this feeling is, though I cannot find language 
to express it, and am constrained to say, O that I 
C 63 



50 

could see you. But if I have rightly apprehended 
your case, go again and again, and pray for assist- 
ance to overcome that reluctant heart. Endeavour 
to adopt and leel the words of the poet : — 

• Here, Lord, to tliee I all resign; 
To draw, redeem, and seal is thine.' 

" Have you not prayed, dear E., that you might 
never rest untill you found peace in helieving — that 
the evil of your heart, and the heinousness of your 
sins in the sight of God, might be spread before 
vou ? Have you not asked that every sinful desire 
might be suppressed, and you made willing to be 
Christ's in his own way — upon his own terms? If 
you have felt a transient peace, for which you could 
not account, did you not wish lor all your fears again, 
and tremble lest the Spirit had left you ! When 
vour prayer has been answered, and your sins 
spread before you ; have you not felt that they could 
never be overcome? and been ready to exclaim, 'who 
is sufficient for these things ' — forgetting that there 
is One who can enable us to come off more than con- 
querors ? If such have been or are now your feel- 
ings, do not wait in the hope of feeling differently. 
Go, with all your sins upon you, with all your ingra- 
titude, hardness of heart, and unbelief — confessing 
Your helplessness and need of mercy — go to Him 
who alone can pardon and strengthen you, and leave 
■yourself there; — and if you feel any risings of heart, 
do it again, and you will be accepted and permitted 
to rejoice. 

'"• I seem to hear you say, ' All this is plain to my 
mind. I see it clearly, and could point out the way 



51 

lo otliers-7-but I feel so little — it is this that dis- 
tresses me — that amidst so much light and know* 
ledge, and with so clear views of" truth, my heart 
should be so little affected.' Is not this after all 
the point of difficulty ? If so, let me assure vou 
that you are waiting for something, and desirous 
of experiencing something for which you will seek 
in vain. It is submission that is necessary — simply 
trust in the promises of God, which arc yea and 
amen in Christ Jesus. When you read his invita- 
tions and intreaties — his expressions of love and 
mercy to lost sinners ; remember that he is the same 
yesterday, to-day, and for ever. Go to Him in faith, 
and he will graciously receive you, and strengthen 
yon to become all that he would have you to be. 

" With regard to myself I can only say, that on 
the appro'aching Sunday I expect to profess my faith 
in Christ, to renounce the world as the supreme ob- 
ject of my affections, to take the Lord to be my God, 
to enter into covenant with him, and choose him as 
my everlasting portion. 

" Solemn and awful are the transactions before 
me. May I ever feel them to be so. Pray much 
for me that I may from the heart renounce the world 
and its follies, and be more and more conformed to 
the image and temper of Him, the emblems of whose 
body and blood I am so soon to receive. I hope 
shortly to hear that you too have found that peace 
which passeth understanding, and have come out from 
the world and declared yourself on the Lord's side. 

"Your truly affectionate cousin, 

" Sarah Louisa." 



32 

Tliosc who liave noticed the development of her 
relioious feelings, the acuteness of her sensibilities, 
and the cautious manner in which she was accustomed 
to proceed, will be interested in knowing how she 
was affected when her obligation to observe the or- 
dinances of the Gospel was exhibited to her view. 
Ever prone to distrust herself, she would not be 
likely to enter thoughtlessly on the performance of 
sacred duty. The institutions of religion were, in 
her estimate, hallowed by too affecting associations 
and established by too high authority to be lightly 
regarded. But in proportion to the earnestness and 
sincerity with which she yielded to the sway of holy 
])rinciples were the difficulties she felt in taking a 
decided stand on the Lord's side. When the sub- 
ject was first proposed to her by her pastor, she felt 
that she was so liable to be deceived that ifwould be 
most prudent to delay. Having called her atten- 
tion to the various considerations by which the obli- 
gation is enforced, he said to her on taking leave, 
" The path of duty is the path of peace — it is plainly 
marked before you : if you neglect duty you must 
expect to walk in darkness." Left to her own 
reflections she was greatly distressed, and knew not 
to what cause to ascribe her feelings, being often 
burdened with an oppressive load, and even tempted 
to relinquish all thoughts of holiness and heaven. 
Every thing appeared so dark within that she feared 
it would be presumption for her to enter into a cove- 
uaDt relation with God. While in this situation, 
at tlie time of morning prayer, her attention was 
tixed on a passage in Isaiah, " 1 will l)iing the blind 
by a Wiiy that they knew not, and I will lead them 



53 

in paths that they have not known ; I will make 
darkness light before them, and crooked things straiglu. 
These thinjis will I do unto them and not forsake 
them." Striking as these vvords appeared, they re- 
lieved her only for a moment, when her distress 
recurred with increasing force. 

She devoted much time to the study of the Bible, 
with prayer for Divine guidance, and had repeated 
conversations with her pastor and other christi.iu 
friends, " who had proved," she says, " by many 
months' patience and perseverance with her, their 
tender regard for her eternal welfare." But much 
as she valued the advice of these friends, she was not 
unmindful of her individual accountability to the 
Judge of quick and dead, for the conclusions at which 
she arrived and the course she pursued. At one of 
the seasons appointed for an interview with her pas- 
tor, being disappointed of a visit by the inclemency 
of the weather, she thus writes, " Deprived of human 
consolation, I trust I was enabled to seek it from a 
higher and surer source, and I sought it not in vain." 
The path of duty became so clear, that on the next 
day she presented a request that her name might be 
enrolled among the followers of Christ. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Mrs. Taylor's Baptism — Obligations of the Christian Covenant — 
Peculiar Qualifications for Instructing — Unwearied Efforts — 
Increase of the Circle of her Friends — Delightful Scenery — 
Importance of Daily Stiidyinjj the Bible — Correspondence — 
Solicitude for the Spiritual Welfare of her Relatives — Letter of 
Consolation — Excursion up the Hudsoti — lleligious Enjoy- 
ment — Aged Servant of God. 

On the 25th of April, Miss Foote was baptized, and 
on the same day received the emblems of a Saviour's 
dying love. Alluding to the occasion, she says, " I 
knelt before the altar, and took upon me the baptis- 
mal vow. Before God, angels, and men, I professed 
my faith in Christ, and joined myself to him in a 
perpetual covenant, well ordered in all things and sure. 
I cannot describe my feelings when that sacred ordi- 
nance was administered. It was to me a momentous 
and solemn hour. Most fervently do I pray that its 
transactions may ever be engraven on my mind and 
influence every action of my future life." 

The writer could not pass lightly over this period 
of her history without doing injustice to the motives 
by which she was influenced and the responsible na- 
ture of the obligations she assumed. Though every 
human being is sacredly bound to observe the com- 
mandments and ordinances of the Lord, there is a 
feeling pecuHarly solemn and aftccting connected with 
the public acknowledgment of these obligations. 
The step is one of the most important that mortals 
can take durinff their residence on earth. Their 
whole future character will be affected by the feelings 



they then cherish. This will be a point in tlieir 
existence from wliich they will press forward with 
continually increasing light and knowledge, or from 
which they will sink into apathy and become cum- 
berers of the ground. Entering into a new relation 
with God, receiving the seal of the everlasting cove- 
nant and a pledge of unnumbered blessings, they 
must, if they realize these things, deeply feel that 
the pomp of a vain world and the sinful desires 
of the flesh must be renounced ; that holiness to 
the Lord must be inscribed on all their thoughts, 
words, and actions. Have they entered the vineyard 
of Jehovah ? Shall they or can they forget whose 
they are and whom they are bound to serve ? Re- 
deemed by the precious blood of the Lamb of God, 
adopted into the christian family, will they not deem 
it their inestimable privilege to walk worthy of their 
hijih vocation ? 

To Miss Foote these sentiments were familiar. 
They were associated with her holiest feelings, and 
seemed inwrought with all her plans and resolutions 
for the future. Her heart expanding with love to 
God, she sought to become an instrument of useful- 
ness to others. In uniting herself with the visible 
company of believers, she did not cherish the delu- 
sive opinion, that thereby the great object of her 
existence was accomplished. She believed that God 
had established a church in the world for the glorious 
purpose of converting the world unto himself, and 
that all the members of the church were bound, in 
their respective spheres of action, to exert themselves 
for the salvation of souls. Hence she entered with 
renewed zeal upon every department of duty. 



56 

On the first of May slie opened a school on her 
own responsibility, and devoted to it the best encrfries 
of her mind and the affections of her heart. The 
exercises of each day were commenced and closed 
with the reading of the Scriptures and prayer. Her 
course was that of a christian teacher to whom in- 
terests of incalculable importance was intrusted. No 
individual was ever more fully prepared for entire 
devotedness to the duties of her station. Other cares 
did not interfere to divert her from this single ab- 
sorbing employment. She loved to contemplate the 
immortal mind in the incipient states of its develop- 
ment, and to apply her plastic hand in training it for 
happiness here and hereafter. These humble efforts, 
often irksome to others, were her delight. She 
seemed to be watching some favourite plants, and was 
especially solicitous that they should take a right 
direction. It was her earnest endeavour to throw 
her soul into theirs, to enlist their feelings, direct 
their thoughts, expand their powers, and prepare 
them for the scenes in life through which they must 
pass. By these means she secured and retained their 
affections, and diligently exerted herself to make them 
whatever God had qualified them to become. That 
such unwearied and well-directed efforts were crowned 
with abundant success none will be slow in believing. 
The impress of her character was indelibly fixed on 
many who enjoyed the benefit of her instructions. 
Some of them completed their pilgrimage before her, 
and departed hence rejoicing in the hope of a blessed 
immortality. These results however belong more 
appropriately to a later period of her life. 

This year the circle of her friends was enlarged 



57 

and new intimacies formed which had an important 
bearing on all lier future movements. While her 
feelings were drawn out in affectionate regard for all 
who bore the impress of her Saviour, there were a 
chosen few with whom in a more especial manner she 
held " sweet converse," and who possessed the power 
of touching the secret springs of her heart. Among 
this number there was one who surrounded the same 
hallowed table, and who was " in Christ " before her, 
to whom with more than ordinary freedom she un- 
bosomed her feelings, and maintained for years a fre- 
quent and pleasing correspondence. The following 
letter, the first of the series, was written during her 
absence from New York on a visit to her parents. 

Aug. 15, 18-29. 
" My dear Catharine, — Since parting with you 
I have passed up and down the North river, across 
the Sound, and am now sailing up the Connecticut. 
You have become so familiar with the scenery along 
the banks of the Hudson, that I presume it has lost 
its novelty. I cannot describe to you my feelings 
when, for the first time, I gazed upon the ' Highlands;' 
indeed 1 think the scenery for many miles grand and 
sublime, and calculated to inspire sentiments of awe 
and solemnity. The banks of the Connecticut form 
a striking contrast. They do not rise to a great 
height above the surface of the river, but afford a 
rich and pleasing variety. Here may be seen a 
beautiful grove — there a hill covered with shrubbery 
or waving grain — occasionally a lofty rock overspread 
with verdure, rising gradually and then breaking off' 
abruptly with a rough perpendicular front — then a 
c2 



58 

long fiat of meadow, whose smooth velvet surface 
does not appear to have been trodden or disturbed by 
man. I was tliis afternoon gazuig upon scenery 
such as I have attempted to describe when, on turning 
a point, a pleasant little village was full in view before 
us. It was situated on the side of a gentle emi- 
nence. Two neat churches, with their " heaven- 
ascending spires " adorned the summit ; beyond this 
rose a still higher hill covered with trees of the 
darkest green, affording a rich back-ground to the 
picture. The sun was just setting behind a beauti- 
ful white cloud, by which it was soon entirely con- 
cealed, and shortly the floating clouds around were 
tinged with a thousand brilliant and ever-varying hues. 
It was an enchanting scene ; but, like every earthly 
delight, it quickly began to fade, and tint after tint 
disappeared untill all were gone, and the consecrated 
hour of twihght approached. Twilight gave place 
to the shades of evening, and I gazed upon the 
lengthened and indistinct shadows, thinking earnestly 
of you, my dear Catharine, and wishing you were by 
my side, untill I became lost to all around me. At 
that instant the chiming of a church bell broke the 
silence and aroused me from my revery, when sud- 
denly turning round I observed that the full moon 
had risen and was gleaming brightly upon the glassy 
surface of the lovely river. Not a sound was now 
to be heard save the rippling of the waves as, parted 
for a moment by the vessel, they met again. Once 
more 1 gazed, admired, and heartily wished you 
here, but knowing that this could not be, I resolved 
to begin a letter to you, and you have before you the 
result. 



59 

" And now, dear Catharine, what further sliall I 
add ere I lay aside my pen and seek repose ? Shall 
I tell you that I sometimes looked throufrh nature 
up to nature's God ? Oh, my friend, would I had 
not to tell you how frequently I am cold and unmoved ! 
The innumerable mercies which crown my every hour 
excite so little gratitude, and the goodness and for- 
bearance of God so little love, that when I reflect I 
am lost in astonishment. I have, I trust, been enabled 
to commit my way unto the Lord, believing that he 
will be faithful to his promise, and direct my steps. 
This has given me peace and confidence. But oh, 
my unbelieving distrustful heart ! 

Aug. IS— 

" I have to-day, dear Catharine, for a little time, 
been enabled to rise above the world, and to see its 
vanities in something of their true light. When 
blest with such feelings, I long to lay down this bodv 
of sin and rise where I can see ray Saviour as he is 
and love him as I ought ; but very soon I find my- 
self groveling here below, pursuing some vain plan, 
or setting my affections too entirely upon some 
earthly object. Often when I scan the motives 
which influence my conduct, I find them such that I 
shrink from the investigation, and am unwillinfj to 
acknowledge even to myself the deceit and depravity 
so deeply seated in this heart. 

' O could I find some peaceful bower, 
Where sin lias neither place nor power.' 

" Pray for me, my friend, that I may be faithful, 
and strengthened to wage a perpetual war with sin 
untill it is subdued, and my heart made a temple meet 



60 

for tiie indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Pray that I 
may be taught when to speak and what to say to 
each ot" my very dear friends, that I may be watchful, 
circumspect, and consistent, and so live that they 
may be convinced of the reality and sincerity of my 
professions. 

" Please tell my Sunday scholars that I have not 
forgotten them, but hope to see them soon. 

" Your ever affectionate friend, 

" Sarah Louisa." 

Miss Foote attached great importance to the daily 
study of the word of God, and earnestly recom- 
mended the practice to all lier acquaintance. After 
her return to New York, she wrote to a young friend 
who, at her solicitation, had engaged to devote a por- 
tion of each day to this blessed employment. 



" Thursday, Sept. I'rd. 

" Let us, my dear M., unitedly supplicate the 
throne of grace, that our minds may be enlightened 
by the influences of the Holy Spirit, that we may 
understand the truths of the Bible and practise them 
in our lives. The habit of reading the Scriptures 
frequently, attentively, and prayerfully, has often, 
unaccompanied by any other religious instruction, 
been the means not only of enhghtening the mind 
but of convincing the understanding, awakening the 
conscience, and bringing the once stubborn sinner 
broken-hearted to the Saviour. I have only time to 
add, that we may, if we thus read, expect to receive 



61 

lasting benefit, even a knowledge of the way of life 
and salvation. 

" With affectionate regard, your friend 

"Sauah . 

" Remember your promise." 

About this time one of that " dear circle in Col- 
chester," accompanied her husband to his residence 
in one of the Southern States. Before her depar- 
ture she received the following token of the continued 
sympathy and affection of her beloved friend. 

" Sept. 5. 

"Dear Margaretta, — lam extremely anxious to see 
you, that I may converse with you on a subject of great 
importance to us both, and yet were that privilege 
granted us, it might, like manyotherSjbe misimproved, 
and we, instead of speaking and thinking of our souls* 
best interests, might be entirely engrossed with the 
vanities of the world, or what we might term the cares 
and realities of life. — I would gladly accompany you 
to your distant home, and sympathise with you as a 
friend and a sister. But it cannot be. — I need not 
tell you, that I think much of you, and earnestly 
pray that you may secure for yourself the blessing of 
Heaven. Make the Lord your refuge. Flee to 
him : for he is a friend that sticketh closer than 
a brother. Need I urge this upon you? You 
know, you sometimes feel your want of this unfail- 
ing friend. In your letter you say ' you desire to 
feel willing to give up the unsatisfying, fleeting ob- 
jects of time.' — Dear M., religion requires no sacri- 
fice of true pleasure ; but it brightens every rational 



62 

enjoyment. — Confess and forsake your sins ; receive 
Christ as your Saviour, and he will be for ever yours. 
— It you really desire to have the support of the 
Gospel, that hope, which will be a comfort to you in 
every trial of life, which will smooth the bed of death, 
and secure a crown of celestial glory ; seek the Lord 
with your whole heart, be encouraged by the prom- 
ise, they who seek shall find. Prayer, frequent and 
earnest prayer, is the first step in the right path. 
You know that Spraying breath was never spent in 
vain.' Let not the ever-ready tempter keep you 
from a throne of grace, by raising difficulties, or re- 
ferring you to a more convenient season. Never 
will you be able to give yourself to God with less 
difficulty than at the present time ; and of another 
hour, how uncertain the possession ! Cast not this 
aside, dear M., as too urgent, or as something out 
of place from a friend — from me. But pause in your 
present course, resolve that you will secure the sal- 
vation of your immortal soul, that from this hour you 
will begin the great work. If you seek assistance 
and strength, will you not find it? go then, and may 
the Holy Spirit be with you. 

" Your true friend, Sarah Louisa." 

The affectionate spirit of Miss F., and the breath- 
ings of her soul to God for the spiritual benefit of 
others, were never more apparent than when her 
thoughts rested on her dear relatives. Her soul was 
then full to overflowing ; she felt that no sacrifices 
would be too great for her to make, if thereby she 
might be permitted to welcome them to the fold of 
the Redeemci. Alluding to some of this number, 



63 

bound to her heart by tlic strongest of earthly ties, 
she says, " When I look upon them, and see their 
kindness and affection continually manifested towards 
mc, and think that they arc living without any well- 
grounded evidence that tlieir peace is made up with 
God, it gives rise to feelings which can find no utter- 
ance. Could I indulge the joyful hope that they 
were the friends of the Redeemer, I should be will- 
ing to be separated from them while on earth. 
What is earth, with all its changes and revolutions, 
compared to eternity ? Does not the thought swell 
beyond expression ? And yet how prone we are to 
descend from such lofty thoughts and feelings, and 
mix with the world, and almost forget the existence 
of those amazing realities. Well may it be said that 
the christian race is a warfare. Dangers beset us on 
every side. We are not safe for a moment with- 
out habitual watchfulness and fervent prayer." 

In a note to her cousin E., dated Sept. 12, she 
thus writes : " I have felt to-day at peace with my- 
self, with the world, and with Heaven. When I 
say at peace with myself, I do not mean satisfied, far 
from it : but when 1 feel that my heart is deceitful 
above all things and desperately wicked, and can go 
and acknowledge all, and cast myself unreservedly 
upon the Saviour's mercy, there is a peace that earth 
can never give. Dear E., look to Jesus, contemplate 
the height and depth and breadth of his love; think 
of his sufferings, the great sacrifice he offered. It 
was for you and me, and all who will come and par- 
take freely of the salvation he alone can bestow. 
Can you withhold your heart? Why will you not, 
forsaking every thing else, cast yourself upon him 



64 

who died to save you ? I feel that if I could once 
more see you, I would never leave you untill you 
could tell rac, that you were indeed Christ's and 
Christ yours for ever. 

" I am entirely alone in my room. Here, after 
the exercises of the day, I can sit and meditate un- 
disturbed ; and hold ' sweet converse' with my Savi- 
our and my God. 

" Give love to all, and believe me your true friend 
and affectionate cousin, Sarah ." 

Miss Foote was susceptible to all the tender 
emotions inspired by friendship, and remarkably 
formed for the enjoyment of its holiest and purest 
pleasures. Entertaining a low opinion of her own 
attainments, she sought to make her intercourse with 
others the means of advancement in the divine 
life. Her sentiments on this subject are alluded to 
in a lettter to her intimate friend. 

"Wednesday noon, Sept. 23, 1829. 
" My dear Catharine, — I have so much to learn, 
and am so much a babe in knowledge and practice, 
that I greatly feel the need of a friend, to whom I 
can unreservedly communicate all ray feelings and 
tell all my doubts, my hopes, my comforts. This 
friend 1 believe I have found in you. But when I 
think of our intimacy, the thought sometimes occurs, 
that we may not long have this enjoyment. Be it 
so, I find consolation in reflecting, that our friendship 
will survive even ' the wreck of nature and the crash 
of worlds.' Have we not one hope in the same 
Saviour ? Have we not the same heaven in view .'' 



65 

May we not, as friends and christian pilgrims, ani- 
mate and encourage each other while passing 
through this vale of tears? Even when we have 
sought guidance and direction from God, we may 
need the sympathy and confiding tenderness of 
friendship. 

" Yesterday, at our consecrated hour, I forgot all 
save the duty, or rather the enjoyment, before me. 
What a blessed privilege, to have a covenant God, 
to whom we may go at all times and under all cir- 
cumstances, and make known our wants and difficul- 
ties, and freely confess our sins. Yet I sometimes 
feel a heaviness, an insensibility, which is truly dis- 
tressing. When shall I act under the constant in- 
Huence of the thought, that the eye of my Saviour, 
my Judge, is upon me ?" 

In sympathy for the afflicted. Miss Foote has rare- 
ly been excelled. She could not hear of suffering 
without desiring to administer relief. Even strangers 
elicited her feelings, and found in her a friend, who 
could point to the source of everlasting consolation. 
This trait in her character is happily exempUfied in 
a letter to a young lady, to whom she was personally 

unknown. 

" New York, Sept. 27. 

" My dear sister in Christ, — At the request of 
our dear friend Catharine, who has kindly favoured 
me with a perusal of your letter, 1 take the liberty of 
addressing you. When this was first proposed to me, 
I felt a degree of reluctance, for I thought ' we are 
strangers ;' but the remembrance, that we are one in 
Christ, (and, if we are indeed united to him, we shall 
one day ' see eye to eye,' ' know as we are known,' 



66 

and together join in an eternal song of praise to liim, 
wlio hath redeemed us by liis own precious blood, — 
t!ie remembrance of this,) induced me to waive form- 
ality and ceremony, and comply at once with the 
wishes of her whom I love to oblige. 

" From what she has related to me of yourself 
and family, and from the bereavement of which you 
have given us an account in your letter, I feel a groat 
degree of interest in regard to you already ; — your 
peculiar affliction gives you a claim to my sympathy, 
I feel that I can mourn with you over your loss, and 
still more rejoice with you in the glorious hope of a 
happy immortality, with which your beloved sister 
left you. You may indeed feel it a very heavy stroke, 
for which you were unprepared ; and though in this 
dispensation there may be to you darkness and mys- 
tery, and you can now only in part answer the in- 
quiry of your aching heart, why, why is it so ? by 
saying, the Lord hath done it, yet, may I not with 
conlidence assure you, the time will come when you 
will say, I am fully satisfied, yes, when you will feel, 
that it was right and necessary ? 

" You have now much to console you ; — you have 
hope in her death ; and would you, dear friend, would 
you recall her from her blissful sphere, to grovel again 
in this vale of tears, — anaui to struiiffle with sin, aijain 
to die ? Oh no, she is for ever free from all that 
can pain or distress, from all that can defde or pollute, 
and above all, she is for ever free from all those tloubts 
and despondencies which so often cloud the mind 
and obstruct the view of the pilgrim here ; — yes, she 
is gone to be for ever with the Lord. 

" Though it hath not entered into the heart of 



67 

mail to conceive the joys which God has prepared 
for those who love him; how consoling it must be to 
the bereaved, to follow the departed spirit, to ' trace 
its wondrous way ' untill with the eye of faith we 
beliold it among the spirits of the just made perfect, 
and in possession of that crown of glory which can 
never fade. And oh ! the thought of meeting them 
there, — where sin and suffering, death and separa- 
tion, arc unknown. 

" You remark, that we ought to pray, that our 
afflictions may be sanctified rather than removed. 
Our reason shows us that trials are necessary, and 
the experience of the christian teaches, that sancti- 
fied afflictions are indeed blessings. — Unsatisfactory 
as the pleasures of the world are, they are still too 
apt to engross our thoughts, and enchain our affec- 
tions. Even over those who profess to be strangers 
and pilgrims how dangerous an ascendancy do they 
frequently gain. — ' If, with all the troubles of earth, 
we are in danijer of bein"; too much attached to it, 
how entirely would it enUst our affections if no 
sorrows were mingled with its pleasures.' 

" But in the midst of afflictions, and under the 
most painful bereavements, we have many sources ot 
unspeakable consolation. How seldom is any earthly 
tie broken, or any earthly delight removed, which 
does not cause us to rise more above the world, and 
to look more entirely to the only source of true en- 
joyment. How often is an aching void in the heart 
of a bereaved christian filled by the blissful presence 
of the Lord — by nearness of communion with him. 

" The removal of friends to the abodes of glory 
leads us more frequently to contemplate the happi- 



68 

ness of the blessed, makes us inore anxious to hold 
converse with the world unseen, and more reconciled 
to the thought of laying aside this earthly tabernacle, 
and entering upon the untried scenes of a future 
state. How short, how uncertain, is time compared 
with eternity ! How do even three score years and 
ten dwindle into a moment — a mere point ! 

" The fading light of day compels me to close : 
but not without giving you the assurance, that a 
letter from you will be peculiarly gratifying. — With 
the heart-felt desire, that we may daily live with our 
lamps trimmed and burning, and be ready to follow 
your departed Catharine, that, though we may not 
meet on earth, we may meet in heaven, I subscribe 
myself your affectionate friend, 

Sarah Louisa Foote." 

The next letter from Miss Foote that has been 
preserved exhibits her in a cheerful frame, partici- 
pating largely in the kindness of friends, grateful 
for the enjoyment they conferred, and desirous of 
acting with fidelity in the performance of every duty. 

" New York, Oct. 15, 1829. 
" My dear Sister, — Notwithstanding the labour 
and confinement of my school, my health is unusu- 
ally good. Truly my cup ruinieth over with bless- 
ings. May they lead me to live nearer to the un- 
failing fountain whence they all flow. But I have 
really feared they might prove a snare to me, and 
that while enjoying the gifts, I should forget the 
giver. I know that the goodness of God is designed 
to lead to repentance ; but such is the depravity of 



69 

the human heart, that the greatest displays of it often 
appear to render individuals more insensible to the 
Divine hand, and to encourage them to grow bold 
in iniquity. 

" Last week, I accompanied my friend Catharine 
in a visit to her father's family, at New Windsor, 
about 7 miles from Newburgh. When I sailed up 
the Hudson, in August, every thing looked green 
and beautiful ; now, nothing can exceed the variety 
of colours, from the pale yellow and green to the 
deepest orange and scirlet. The lofty rugged rocks, 
the gentle hills, and the level shore, are alike cover- 
ed with beautiful variegated shrubbery. — I cannot 
tell you the feelings of delight which a sail of sixty 
miles through scenery like this awakened after hav- 
ing been enclosed by brick walls. It gladdened my 
eyes to behold once more the face of nature. The 
dav was lovely, and every object around seemed to 
smile. — When we look abroad upon the works ot 
creation, and descend from the most noble and im- 
portant to the trembling leaf, if wx can trace the 
hand of God, and feel, * My Father made them all,' 
then it is that we can be rationally happy. 

" I told you something of Miss S. when at home, 
since my return I have seen her frequently, and have 
become more closely attached to her. Do not tremble 
for me, lest ' I have been forming a girlish intimacy, 
from which I expect much, but shall in the end meet 
with bitter disappointment.' I trust that our friend- 
ship has for its basis christian love, ' our fears, our 
hopes, our aims, our comforts, and our cares are one.' 
1 do indeed love her dearly, and feel that I ought 



70 

to be watchful and pray mucli, that this apparent 
blessiiiif may not be a snare to our souls. 

" As usual, she enjoyed with me whatever a kind 
Providence placed within our reach ; and with her, it 
was to me doubly pleasant. Her friends at New- 
burgh received us with the greatest cordiality ; we 
dined there, and after strolling over the place, visit- 
ing the graveyard, &c., we left, about 5 o'clock, with 
lier father, (who came into town for us,) for Mount 
Airy. We rode through a beautiful valley, called 
^ the Vale of Avoca,' stopped at sunset, took tea 
with a relative ; then performed the remainder of our 
ride, by clear moonlight, through a very romantic and 
to me noiseless country, and reached the place of our 
destination about 10 o'clock. Catharine's grand 
parents are still living near her father's — they are 
on the verge of heaven. I have never before seen 
people who loved religion as they do. I could always 
enjoy such a circle. Do not think, however, that 
new friends have effaced the recollection of nearer 
and dearer ones from my mind and heart. This is 
not the case. I have very often thought of you, and 
all the family, and can hardly realize that I have so 
recently seen any. 

" Pray for me, dear sister, that I may be faithful, 
and, as my school increases, that my diligence may 
also be increased. 

" Your affectionate sister, Sarah ." 

The few days which she passed at " Mount Airy" 
and its vicinity were ever recurred to with grateful 
emotion. All know, how the full heart loves to vent 



Tl 

itself. The recipient of new mercies feels a glow, 
.such as earth cannot long sustain. It is at any time 
a delightful privilege, to be with a beloved friend. 
The value of the privilege will be enhanced, and the 
pleasure increased, when permitted to accompany that 
friend to the dear home of her parents, and to find 
every thing in unison with the state of our hearts. 
The subject of our narrative fully realized and exqui- 
sitely enjoyed all this happiness. She was in the 
midst of a circle that won every feeling of her heart. 
The time she spent there seemed hardly to belong 
to the number of her earthly days. To her quick 
perception, and tender susceptibilities, the place it- 
self seemed " a paradise below." Ever alive to 
the beauties of nature, she seemed conversing with 
her God when her eye rested on the works of his 
hands. 

The landscape presented much on which she 
dwelt with pleasure. The horizon was skirted on 
every side with mountains. The eastern bank of the 
Hudson, and the narrow pass through the Highlands, 
were distinctly seen. A large undulating valley, in a 
high state of cultivation, lay before her — nor coultl 
she pass unnoticed, the retired cottage, the parental 
home of her friend. It seemed, with its walls of stone, 
destined for the benefit of generations to come. 
" Nearly the whole of its front was covered with rich 
vines. The jessamine and strawberry creeper min- 
gled and formed beautiful festoons, over either win- 
dow, while a tall white .rose had woven its wav 
through them almost to the roof." — But her recol- 
lections of the visit chiefly pertained to the commun- 
infjs of heart with heart, on those ennobling themes 



72 

from wliich tlic christian derives Ins liiglicst joy. 
She thought of the aged servants of God, then hend- 
ing beneath the weight of years, and expecting de- 
liverance from this liouse of clay, and admission to 
the mansions of the blessed. The writer feels at 
liberty to allude to these eninently pious individuals, 
for they arc already beyond the reach of human praise; 
and surviving friends are cheered by the belief, that 
the temporary inmate of their family, who thought, 
that she " could always enjoy such a circle," now 
enjoys that very circle, in a condition of far greater 
purity than earth has ever produced. 

For sixty years, the grandfather, to whom she al- 
ludes, occupied the highest official station that can 
be filled by a layman in the church to which he be- 
louired. He was distinjTuished for the holiness and 
consistency of his life, the value of his counsel, and 
his devotedness to the temporal and spiritual welfare 
of all around him- His family altar was hallowed 
by numerous affecting associations. It warmed other 
hearts than his own, into holy love, and cast a hea- 
venly radiance over all the transactions of the day. 
None, who were privileged to unite with him, though 
but for a few times, in these services, could soon for- 
get the impression they made. He had four chil- 
dren, who early dedicated themselves to the God of 
their father ; and, before his death, every grand- 
child over the age of 12 years had received the 
holy communion. In the decline of life there was 
one power of his soul, which retained all its wonted 
vigour, yes, increased in strength. This was strong 
confidence in God. When the depressed state of 
the church was unfolded to his view, his vigorous 



73 

faith seemed to lay hold of the pillars of tlie Eteiiuil 
Throne, and to hear the soft whispers of mercy, 
" She shall arise," or the cheering voice of the Sa- 
viour, " I have redeemed her to God through my 
hlood." After the death of his beloved companion, 
which occurred less than a year before his own, he 
fixed his thoughts on his heavenly home, and appear- 
ed continually to feel, that this was not his abiding 
place. When enquired of respecting his health, he 
would answer, " Feeble, very feeble. I would not 
live alway." 

" Even yet," says the friend to whom I am in- 
debted for these particulars, " as I contemplate the 
pleasant landscape, which ' Mount Airy ' commands, 
as 1 stand on an elevation, presenting a view of the 
richly-cultivated fields, surrounding the old farm 
house in which this aged saint lived and died, I find 
myself unconsciously straining my eye, for the bent 
figure and feeble steps of him who, if not the most 
prominent, was at least the most interesting object 
in the picture." 



CHAPTER V. 

Extracts from Mrs. Taylor's Diary— Severe Trial— Affectionate 
Entreaty — Resolutions a tthe Commencement of a New Year 
— Teachers' Meeting — A Family in Eternity — Notice of Mrs, 
Ju(]=on — Desire for a Missionary Life— Rev. Mr. Clark's Bible 
Class — Israelites entering into Covenant with God — Ceasing 
of the Manna — Sinful League with the Gibeonites. 

In a private memorandum, bearing date Oct. 25, 
1829, Miss Foote writes, " Six months ago this day, 
I publicly entered into covenant with God. During 
D 63 



74 

this time, how difFcrcnt has my course been from 
what I anticipated. How Httlc do 1 find in my con- 
duct on which a God of infinite purity can look 
with approbation. But the thought which grieves 
me most is, that I have done so httle, by my daily 
walk and conversation, to recommend the gospel of 
our Saviour. Why, if 1 have any title to tlic name 
of christian, am I so bound by tiie maxims of the 
world ? I fear my religion has more to do with the 
head than the heart. Oh Lord, who knowest the 
secrets of my heart, teach me myself. Impress thy 
truth upon my mind, and help me to exercise un- 
feimied trust in thee." 

Having alluded to a previous acknowledgment ol 
her deficiency in religious attainments, she proceeds, 
"In the stillness of this solemn hour, in the presence 
of the Searcher of hearts, I would ask myself — If I 
am a child of God, why is all this ? God is un- 
changeable. The cause certainly exists in my own 
breast. May I not trace it to a neglect of duty ; or 
to the want of a proper spirit in the performance 
of duty ? Of both I liave been guilty ; and though 
I have ever maintained the form of prayer, I have 
often been destitute of its life-giving, soul-reviving 
spirit. If my heart was truly staid on God, should 
I not run with untiring real the christian race .'' 
Should I not desire to follow Christ through evil as 
well as through good report ? May I be enabled to 
rehnquish every feehng, every thought, every pur- 
suit, which has a tendency to retard my progress in 
Divine grace. Lord, help me to walk by faith, 
renewcdly to give myself to thee, that I may hence- 
forth live more to thine honour and glory." 



75 

Not far from this time, she experienced a severe 
trial, in the removal of her devoted pastor. His la- 
hours had proved a blessing to her ; and she would 
have felt it a distinguished privilege to have continu- 
ed in the enjoyment of them. Her feelings on this 
occasion will best be described in her own language. 

"Nov. 22, 1839. 
" My dear friend M., — Our beloved pastor has 
taken leave of us for the present, perhaps for ever» 
Circumstances require his presence in Edinburgh. 
His ministry among us closed this evening. You 
will believe me, when I tell you, that I deeply feel 
his loss. He is a very impressive, earnest, and 
faithful preacher. For this I highly esteem him. 
But you will more readily conceive my feelings in 
view of this separation when I tell you, he has been 
to me a spiritual guide and father. Yes, under God, 
it is owing to his faithfulness, that your friend is, as 
she tremblingly hopes, a humble believer in Jesus. 
From him I received warning and reproof, counsel 
and instruction. He cleared away, to my apprehen- 
sion, the mystery in which the truths of Revelation 
were shrouded, and light dawned upon my darkened 
understanding. His reward is in heaven. — He must 
leave us, but he will be associated with the most 
painful as well as the most delightful recollections. 
I have lately felt in view of his anticipated absence, 
that I have thought too much of the creature, and 
have not sought sufficiently to give the entire glory 
to Him who makes use of mortals to bring about his 
own purposes of love and mercy. — I trust the removal 
of our earthly teacher, our shepherd, will unite us 



76 

znore closely to the Alnii<rhty Bishop and ShepherJ 
of our souls. Will not my dear M. pray that this 
may be the case, and that her friends, C. and 8. 
may be driven from every earthly reliance, and build 
only upon the rock Christ Jesus ?" 

" Believe me, as ever, your affectionate friend, 

Sarah ." 

An extract from a letter to one of her sisters will 
show the earnestness of her desire, that this sister 
niijrht participate in the rich blessing's of the Gospel. 

" Dec. -24, 18-29. 
" You probably sometimes think, my dear sister, 
that I have forgotten you, or at least have become 
indifferent to your welfare. But I can assure you 
that your temporal and eternal interests are near my 
heart. — Oh, that I could tell you, what I have felt 
and still feel concerning you ! — When 1 think of the 
time you thought and felt too, when you were ' al- 
most persuaded ' to become a christian, and then re- 
vert to your present state of feeling, a kind of de- 
spondency fills my mind, and I have not faith to look 
forward, without fear, lest you will never again ex- 
perience the blessed influences of the Spirit of truth 
upon your heart and conscience. As iron, which has 
been once heated and suffered to cool, becomes hard- 
er, so the heart of man, if once affected by a sense of 
sin, righteousness, and judgment, and then swayed by 
opposite feehngs, becomes more callous to every good 
jmpression ; and I am sure that this is in proportion 
to the means of light and knowledge enjoyed. 

" If I knew what other motive to urge, what nev/ 



77 

inducement to offer, I would gladly exert all my 
powers, all my influence; — but what will it avail? It 
may excite a momentary, transient feeling, which 
will be succeeded by hardened indifference. Alas, 
must this be the ease ? No. I will hope that you 
will once more listen not only to me, but to the voice 
of your own conscience, whose whispers, I trust, are 
not entirely silenced. I will hope that you may be 
persuaded to awake out of your fearful lethargy, and 
arise and call upon the Lord to the salvation of vour 

soul." 

"Jan. 2, 183(1. 

'' One year ago, this evening, you were with me 
at Mrs. P.'s. It seems but as yesterday; yet how 
many, in that time, have seen sorrow and affliction ; 
— how many have sunk in vice, disgrace, and mi- 
sery; — and how many might be named, who then 
were gay in health, and strong in youthful hope, who 
now are tenants of the silent grave ! Some there are, 
who then were enemies to God, opposed to his righte- 
ous government, and unwilling to yield him that sub- 
mission which he requires, who now are among the 
professed followers of Jesus, and whose only regret 
is, that they so long delayed entering upon the path 
of duty, happiness, and safety, and that they live so 
far short of the requirements of the Lord. And 
there are some, who, within that time, have felt the 
worth of their immortal souls, have seen their dan- 
ger, and ' resolved and re-resolvcd,' to know the joys 
of religion ; and yet, can this new year testify that 
they have indeed entered into 'the narrow gate?' 
Oh, .levusha, what a year to us has been the one 
ivhich has now closed ! Its unnumbered and oft- 



78 

abused blessings arc fled for ever — its precious privi- 
leges, too, can never be recalled ; — but its increased 
lesponsibilities, its renewed obligations, still rest upon 
us. May they be felt by us both, and m.iv the close 
of the year, which has just commenced, {md us act- 
ing from a sense of duty — from a principle of love to 
God. If this be our condition, it will be compara- 
tively of small moment, whetlier our days on earth 
are few or many. Give my best love to all our fa- 
mily and friends. 

" Your ever affectionate sister, Sarah Louisa." 

Her reflections at this period were peculiarly touch- 
ing. The year that had just closed was associated, in 
her mind, with events of deep and thrilling interest. 
She had been to the holy altar, and, with a heart 
softened by Divine grace, dedicated herself to the 
Lord. She felt that the hand of Jehovah was upon 
her, and that wherever she might go, or whatever 
other connexions she mifrht form, an indissoluble tie 
bound her to the eternal throne. Yet she saw much 
in her own heart that filled her with sorrow. " I 
once thought," she says, " if 1 had the hope of a 
christian, what would earth be to me ! It seemed 
so inconsistent for one whose hope, whose home, is 
heaven, to have lieart or aftcction centered in any 
degree on a terrestrial object. My feelings are dif- 
ferent, widely different, from what they formerly 
were; but I come so far short of the standard of the 
Gospel, that I sometimes fear that I have never passed 
from death to life. 

" Grant me, O Lord, an abiding sense of thy love, 
and of the exceeding sinfulness of sin. Help me to 



79 

begin tins year with new resolutions, depending solely 
on thy grace to enable me to live according to them. 
Suffer me not to deceive myself, but impart to mc the 
aid of the Holy Spirit, to make thy image more ap- 
parent. I would humbly renew the dedication of 
myself to thee, praying that, should my life be pro- 
longed another year, every grace may be increased 
and strengthened ; — that I may be more faithful in 
the performance of duty, holy in all manner of con- 
versation, and instrumental in doing good, in the 
sphere where Providence has placed me. Guide me, 
OGod: direct, sustain, and bless me,for Jesus' sake." 

If Miss Footc had seasons of darkness and an- 
xiety, she was not destitute of elevated enjoyment. 
If she knew, from sad experience, what is meant by 
the hiding of Jehovah's face, she also knew the pre- 
ciousness of the light of his countenance. Her pri 
vate journal furnishes satisfactory evidence on this 
subject, and also of the ardent desire of her soul tube 
entirely the Lord's, to labour in whatever part of his 
vineyard he might prepare the way. 

« Feb. 21, 1830. 

*' I would, in the presence of God, thankfully ac- 
knowledge the enjoyment I have had this evening 
in private devotion. The consecrated twilight hour 
has been a precious one ; — oh ! that the feelings 
then excited within mc may never pass away. May 
they continue to fill my heart and influence me 
through life ! In all my intercourse with the world, 
I would have the fear of God before my eyes, that I 
may obtain from him strength and grace to walk 
wortljv of my high vocation. I desire more steadi- 
ness of principle, more sobriety of conduct, more 
eticrgv and decision. 



80 

" I sometimes cherish the hope of being permitted 
to labour for God among the heathen. The rc(|uisite 
self-denial may appear less difiicult when the period 
for its exercise is remote. But unless I am deceived, 
no obstacle of this kind would deter mc if the way 
was clearly opened. True, my heart is treacherous, 
and my most fervent feelings are an unsafe criterion. 
Can a person, so prone to consult ease in dailv and 
common duties, so little accustomed to sorrows or 
crosses, to perils or sacrifices, be qualified to engage 
in such a cause, or to assume such responsibilities r" 

" But I would leave this, with every other con- 
cern, where alone it can be committed with safety ; 
believing that, if my heavenly Father should conde- 
scend to honour nie as an instrument in his hands, 
for doing good to others, he will make plain the 
course of duty, and impart all needed grace. 

" To-niorrow is appointed for the monthly meeting 
of our Sunday school teachers. I shall have to per- 
form the duties of superintendant. My age and in- 
experience render me incompetent to the task, and 
yet our school is so situated, that I know not how to 
decline. O Thou, who hast often taken the weak 
things of the world to accomplish thy purposes, be 
pleased to make use of me to promote thy cause. 
Thou knowest what we all need. O ! grant us a 
sense of our wants, and do thou supply them through 
Christ our Lord. 

" I have, the past week, stood by the bed of death, 
and witnessed the undying spirit struggling to be 
free, — free from this earthly tabernacle, and to soar 
to regions of eternal light. Deatli and eternity were 
brought near to me, — I could not but ask myself — 



SI 

Am I prepared to die ? Oh ! that I may live more 
in the exercise of a vigorous faith — more in view of 
the solemn realities of a future state." 

Another affecting instance of the movement of an 
unseen hand is referred to in a letter to lier friend. 
Miss B. 

" New York, March Hi, 188(1. 

'* How has my friend M. passed the long winter .•' 
— amidst friends and social comforts, and above all, 
in the enjoyment of that fiivour which is life, and that 
loving-kindness which is better tl?an life ? No doubt 
vou have often, with an aching heart, looked at the 
seat so lately filled by her who was dear to you, and 
have increased the bitterness of your feelings by the 
thought of the grave; but there you have not rested, 
following the departed spirit to the skies, meditating 
upon the change in feeling and employment — the 
enlarged capacity for happiness — the entire change 
from mortal to immortality, you have almost ' longed 
to go.' — After pursuing contemplations like these, 
liow trivial do the mightiest concerns of earth appear ! 
how puerile its most important projects ! — and yet 
how soon these high and holy feelings are disturbed 
by ' earth-born schemes,' ]jy worldly cares, and we 
again ' cleave to the dust !' 

" I have been much struck with the dealings of 
Providence towards the family of a clergyman of this 
city. One year since he was in the midst of domes- 
tic enjoyment. A wife and two children composed 
his family. The children were first called by death 
— then the wife, while the husband was spared, 
.ipparently for extensive usefulness. But He who 
D 2 



82 

cannot err had otherwise determined. Last Sunday 
morning, after an ilhiess of tliree days, at the age of 
27, he closed his earthly labours. How mysterious 
the dispensations of the Almighty ! — Hereafter their 
design will fully appear. 

" In extreme haste, your aflPcctionate friend, 

" Sarah." 

In writing to her sister, she again alludes to a 
missionary life, and dwells with delightful interest on 
the sufjijested thought. 

« New York, March 26, 1830. 

" Friday, 5 o'clock, p.m. I have completed tlie 
labours of another week, and have resolved to devote 
the remainder of the day in answering my dear sis- 
ter's letter, w-hich I received on Wednesday, and 
which I hardly need add was truly welcome. 

" All without is dreary, dark, and stormy, but 
within there is peace. Surely that heart must be 
cold and insensible which cannot and which does 
not rise in gratitude to Him who kindly bestows so 
many mercies. 

" Few things have interested mc more, the past 
winter, than the ' Memoir of Mrs. Judson.' I trust 
the perusal of it has been profitable. Never before 
was 1 so sensible of the real condition of the heathen. 
It seems to me that I could calmly, yes, joyfully 
leave home and all its endearments, and spend my 
days amongst them, should the Lord in his provi- 
dence prepare the way. You may think that I sup- 
pose the missionary life one of ease, unattended with 
perils or sacrifices. It is impossible to read the 
work to which I have refeired, and retain such an 



83 

impression. The sufferings of Mrs. J. were severe. 
Perhaps no other missionary in modern times has 
endured such a compHcation of trials and afflictions. 
If she had not possessed a large share of fortitude, 
perseverance, and suhmission to the will of Heaven, 
she must have yielded to the oppressive weight of iier 
sufferings. What an example to the follower of 
Christ ! Though he may not be required to visit 
distant countries, he may in his proper sphere evince 
the same spirit, and essentially aid in extending the 
influence of the blessed Gospel. 

" Wherever we go, may we enjoy the presence 
of that friend who sticketh closer than a brother, and 
when our wanderings are over, may He be our por- 
tion for ever. 

" Your affectionate sister, Sarah." 

In the early part of this year, she joined the Bible 
class, under the care of Rev. John A. Clark, at that 
time assistant minister of Christ Church in this city. 
The members of the class were required to present 
written answers to the questions assigned to them. 
The hours Miss Foote spent in preparation were 
taken from those usually alloted to sleep. She 
transcribed a copy of these exercises for her own vise. 
During a single year they filled a large volume. That 
she should have accomplished so much will appear 
surprising when we consider the exhausting nature 
of her daily duties. She had the sole charge of more 
than forty pupils. In the letter from which the last 
extract was taken, she says, " I leave home at 8 
o'clock in the morning, have an intermission of half 
an hour at noon, and frequently continue with the 



84 

scholars untill dark. This has been my general course 
throuijh the winter," 

It was no unusual circumstance for Thursday 
evening to be the only one during the week in which 
she had not some stated religious engagement. Her 
duties on Sunday, she informs her sister, were if 
possible still more arduous. " I often spend an hour, 
traversing the streets for scholars, officiate as super- 
intendant in the sciiool, and sit with the scholars 
during public worship. Yesterday, on my return from 
the evening service, I really felt, that there is such a 
thing as being ' religiously dissipated,' and that too, 
to the great injury of one's spiritual enjoyment and 
advancement." 

Much to the regret of the friends of Miss Foote, 
the manuscript volume, containing her exercises at 
the Bible class, is we fear irrecoverably lost. A few 
leaves, on which she made the first draught of seve- 
ral of them, are all that are known to be preserved. 
They will be inserted in the order of their respective 
dates. 

" Deut. xxix. — Who are represented as entering 
into covenant with God in this chapter? 

" For a direct answer to this question we need 
only refer to verses 10, 11, 14, and 15, where we 
read, ' Ye stand this day all of you before the Lord 
your God ; your captains of your tribes, your elders, 
and your officers, with all the men of Israel ; your 
little ones, your wives, and thy stranger that is in thy 
camp, from the hewer of thy wood unto the drawer of 
thy water. Neither with you only do I make this 
<o»ath and this covenant, but with him that standeth 



85 

here with us this day before the Lord our God, and 
also with him that is not here with us this day.' 

" From this we learn, that none were too high in 
office, or too great in power, to enter into this cove- 
nant; neither were any too humble or too mean to he 
admitted. Their little ones were included, to teach 
us, that children can enter into covenant with God, 
or rather that they may be made the subjects of" a 
covenant, bound to obey it, and entitled to its blessings. 

" The 'stranger' is mentioned, referring probably 
to such of the idolatrous nations through which the 
twelve tribes had passed, who might have been influ- 
enced by the wonderful manifestations of Israel's 
God, to join his people and become interested in the 
engagements by which they were bound to the ' King 
of kings and Lord of lords.' ' Neither with you only 
do I make this covenant and this oath, nor with those 
only who stand here this day, but with those who are 
not here,' those who were unavoidably prevented from 
meeting with them ; and may we not suppose that 
future generations were also included ? ' To thee 
and thy seed after thee ' is the promise given. The 
Israelites did not enter into covenant with a being 
like themselves, but the unchangeable Jehovah, 'the 
same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' 

" If we consider this as a type of the covenant of 
grace, it will naturally suggest to the reflecting 
mind many profitable inferences and conclusions. We 
are led to contemplate the goodness of Him ' who is 
no respecter of persons,' who 'died for the chief of 
sinners,' and still declares, ' whosoever will, let him 
come and take of the water of life freely.' When 
we contia&t the prosperity, opulence, and splendour 



86 

of some, with the poverty and wretchedness of otlicrs 
of our fellow creatures, how vastly does one rise 
above the other in our estimation ! Yet what are 
these things in the sight of Him wlio looks upon 
the heart, and stoops to dwell with all who are of a 
contrite spirit? He has said, * not many noble, not 
many wise or mighty are called;' but he has ' chosen 
the poor of this world, rich in faith, and heirs of the 
kingdom which he hath promised to them that love 
him.' Whosoever worketh righteousness, whether 
the Israelite, or the Gentile stranger, is accepted by 
him. The innumerable multitude who stand before 
the throne will be of all nations and kindreds and 
tongues and people. 

" Christian parents find here recorded that which 
may lead them to dedicate their offspring to him 
who is a faithful covenant-keeping God, who remem- 
bers mercy from fathers to children, towards those 
' who love him and keep his commandments.' And 
have not those who have joined themselves to the 
Lord ' in a perpetual covenant, well-ordered in all 
things and sure,' unspeakable reason to rejoice, and 
adore the height and depth, the length and breadth, 
of the riches of Divine grace ? Is it not strange that 
we can ever be forgetful of our covenant engagements, 
— that we do not bind them with the law of God upon 
our hearts, engrave them upon our minds, and live 
continually in view of them ^ 

" When these considerations have a proper weight 
with us, things unseen and eternal rise to our view 
by faith, and things seen and temporal sink into their 
real nothingness. Oh, how false then appear earth's 
most alluring vanities— how empty her highest hon- 



87 

ours, how trivial her most important concerns ! But 
ah ! the next hour is hkely to find us busily engaged 
pursuing alter them with the same eagerness, as 
though our hopes of happiness centered exclusively 
here. Well may we lament our inconsistency. 13ut 
we have consolation in the promise, that though we 
may forget, our heavenly Father will remember, and 
though we wander, he will not utterly withdraw his 
lovinf-kindness, or sufter his faithfulness to fail. 

" If such is the state of those who ' have hope 
throuffh erace,' what must be the case of those who 
stand afar off, and refuse to take upon them that 
' yoke which is easy, and that burden which is light .'" 
To such can only be said, Come and enter into cove- 
nant with your Creator, Preserver, and Redeemer, 
while it is *an accepted time and a day of salvation, 
and ye shall find rest to your souls.' Come, for he 
hath never said to any of the seed of Jacob, ' Seek 
ye me in vain.' 

«'May II, 1830." 

Her desire was so ardent for the salvation of her 
friends, that it seemed as if she could never cease 
pleading with them to be reconciled to God. Jn all 
her letters she endeavours to seize upon some circum- 
stance, by which a salutary impression may be made 
upon their minds. Though she had often written to 
her youngest sister on this subject, yet her efforts 
were not relinquished when appearances were the 

most discouraging. 

"June 1, 1830. 

" My dear sister, — What shall I tell you for 
our comfort ? You say you arc lonely. Oh, that 



88 

I could liope your hours of solitude are spent with 
Him ' who seeth in secret !' — that I could point out 
to you in an effectual manner the precious promises 
which are made to all who believe ! You say nothing 
by which I can judge of the present state of your feel- 
ings upon the one all-important subject. For what 
purpose, Jerusha, do you live ? Have you ever 
Jisked yourself this question — not in gloomy despair, 
but to learn what is the end of your being? Do 
you reflect seriously, and judge yourself impartially ? 
Or is reflection irksome, and when such thoughts and 
interrogatories cross your mind, do you banish them 
— and have recourse to something which conscience 
condemns? 

" Oh, my dear sister, the course of the christian 
may well be called ' a warfare.' He has often to 
exclaim, When ' I would do good, evil is present with 
me ! Yet he can look to an almighty Saviour for 
strength, and can say, with humble confidence in God, 
' I shall come off more than conqueror.' The con- 
flict is indeed so fierce at times, that he is almost 
overcome. But is it to be compared to the incessant 
strivings against an alarmed and upbi'aiding con- 
science ? A mind once awakened, as yours has 
been, cannot soon be lost to all sense of duty; — no, 
even though it strives to have no regard for God, and 
casts off fear and restrains prayer — yet all will not 
answer. A thorn is implanted in the breast, which 
will pierce through with many sorrows. Who can 
doubt the solemn and awful declaration of God ? 
' My Spirit shall not always strive with man.' Does 
not the thought of this make you tremble? May it 
lead you to cry unto the Lord, and beseech him to 



89 

continue the aid of his Holy Spirit, and never leave 
you, untill you are his own penitent and submissive 
child. 

" Your aifectionate sister, 8auaii." 

When she was cn<i;aged in perusing the sacred 
volume, delightfuj trains of reflection presented them- 
selves to her mind. She saw and admired the hand 
of God in his dealings with his chosen people in an- 
cient times, and glanced from thence to the support 
which in every age he grants to those who are de- 
voted to his service. She loved to contemplate him 
as the eternal source of spiritual nourishment, and 
to derive from every portion of his word, incentives 
to draw near to the throne of grace. These remarks 
are happily illustrated in the answers she prepared 
to the questions given her in the Bible class. They 
show the use she was accustomed to make of Divine 
truth, and the influence she wished it to exert on 
her heart. The incident to which the following 
(juestion alludes is recorded in the fifth chapter of 
Joshua. 

" On what occasion did the manna cease ? 

" After passing over Jordan, the children of Israel 
encamped in Gilgal, and kept the passover on the 
I 1th of the month, at even, in the plains of Jericho; 
and they did eat, of the old corn of the land, on the 
morrow after the passover, unleavened bread and 
parched corn in the self-same day. And the manna 
ceased on the morrow, neither had they manna any 
more, but they did eat of the fruit of the land of 
Canaan that year. 

" We learn from Exodus 16th that the Israelites 



90 

had journeyed one month before they were fed with 
manna, and from the time it was first given them, 
untill the expiration of the forty years, they received 
daily suppHes. 

" How full of instruction is this one providence of 
God ! How practical the lesson it affords ! The 
Israel of God are wandering in ' a dry and desert 
land,' a wilderness which yields them no supply ! 
and are they not daily fed with spiritual food ? If 
not, it is because they neglect to seek and gather it ; 
for he who is from everlasting to everlasting, the 
unchangeable Jehovah, is as ready to bestow upon 
us all the needed blessings which we ask of him as 
he was to grant 'angel's food' to the rebellious and 
ungrateful Israelites. During their wanderings this 
was their sustenance ; and so will the influence of 
his grace, if we desire it, be our support through our 
journey, our comfort under trials, our liglit in dark- 
ness, and above all, our strength to sustain us in the 
conflict with the combined powers of the world, the 
flesh, and the devil. 

'• When in our closets we have near access to 
the throne of grace through our glorious Mediator, 
— when in the sanctuary we can exclaim, this is to 
me the house of God, and the very gate of heaven, 
— when in times of earthly distress, or peculiarly 
afflictive bereavements, we can, with the eye of faith, 
see the hand of God in every dispensation, — when 
we can, at such times, say it is the Lord, let him do 
as seemcth to him good — though he slay me, yet will 
1 trust in him; — do we not then receive the hidden 
manna, the comforts of the Spirit? Oh, why, when 
we can have this spiritual meat, why should we 
ever prefer feeding on the husks of earthly vanities? 



91 

When wc receive nourishment from ' the hread that 
cometh down from heaven,' Uke the disciples, we are 
inclined to cry, ' Lord, evermore give us this bread.' 
But how soon do wc loathe it, as did the Israelites 
the manna; and as they asked for meat, so do wc 
rashly ask for that which, if granted, brings a curse 
with it. We provoke the Most High by our sins, 
vet he exercises forbearance, restores us from our 
wanderings, ' forgives us graciously, and loves us 
freely.' Each instance of this brings us under 
new and more binding obligations to live near to 
God, to use more diligently the means which he 
has provided for our strength and comfort, — means 
which he has engaged to grant us ' all our journey 
through.' 

•' After the Israelites entered the promised land, 
and commemorated their deliverance from bondage 
by celebrating the passover, and ate of the corn of 
the land, which was soon to be theirs for a posses- 
sion, the manna ceased, neither did it any more de- 
scend. Though the food they had so long eaten 
was not to be complained of nor despised, yet that 
which they now partook must have been truly grate- 
ful to their taste, and they must (it would seem) have 
thankfully enjoyed this gift, as a proof that greater 
good was yet in store for them. 

" May we not expect that the support which our 
heavenly Father grants us through prayer, his holy 
word, and the ordinances of the sanctuary, will in like 
manner be continued to us untill we cross the Jordan 
of death, enter the promised rest, and with ' the pa- 
triarchs, prophets, and apostles,' commemorate our 
redemption from sin, and celebrate the marriage sup- 
per of the Lamb in the New Jerusalem? While in 



92 

this vale of tears, we 'see through a glass darklvj and 
know only in part,' but there ' we shall sec God as 
he is, and know even as wc are now known.' How 
changed, how wonderf'ullv changed must l)c our 
natures and capacities before we can participate in 
and enjoy such scenes ! Here, by continual prayer 
and watchfulness, we may go on from grace to grace, 
in the hope that grace will soon be perfected in 
glory; but there, what continual progression shall 
we make in knowledge and enjoyment ! In the lan- 
guage of inspiration, ' eye hath not seen, nor ear 
heard, neither hath entered into the heart of man to 
conceive, the joys which God has prepared for those 
that love him.' 

" Let us then strive manfully for the prize ol' our 
high calling ; let us be mindful of the recompense oi 
reward in store for the faitiiful, and count all things 
l)ut loss, that we may win Christ, and be found in 
him, having full confidence in the declaration, that 
' we shall come oil' conquerors, and more than con- 
querors, through Him who loved us and gave him- 
self a ransonj for us, to whom be glory for ever.' 
"June, 10, 1830." 

"Joshua, ix. " What was the sin of the Israelites, 
in entering into a league with the Gibconites ! 

" When the Gibeonitcs appeared at the camp, we 
find the Israelites listening to their story, and 
(though hesitatingly) giving credit to it, and entering 
into a covenant with them ; — l)ut their ' great sin was 
that 'they asked not counsel at the mouth of the 
Lord.' The first sensations excited by this account 
are those of surprise at their insensibility — especially 
ivhen we remember that Eleazer had been expressly 



93 

appointed by God, as his mouth to the people, and to 
enquire at all times his will concerning them. 

" The consequences that attend their omission 
ot" duty lead us to reflect on the unspeakable privi- 
lege of being permitted to seek direction from on 
high. With only our own benighted minds, our 
own perverse dispositions to guide us, where, where 
would our course tend ? Deified reason has not 
power to control and restrain us, even under ordinary 
circumstances; much less can she give direction in 
time of difficulty and danger, or impart comfort in 
seasons of gloom and distress. It is only the hope 
of the christian which can support and animate to 
exertion, in scenes where unassisted human fortitude 
would entirely fail. Now is the value of this hope 
more felt than when, in seasons of darkness and 
uncertainty, we can ask and obtain counsel of the 
Lord ; or when every earthly refuge and solace fail, 
we seek, and gain, rich and precious consolation.. 
Well may we exclaim, 

' Wiio, who that knows the wortli ut' prayer, 
But wislies to be often there I' 

*' In this incident, recorded of Israel, it woulc; 
seem they entirely neglected this duty; and do not 
many who profess godliness enter, in a manner 
equally unguarded, into league with those who are 
the ememies of God, and not subject to his law ? — 
Do not many real christians so far depart from the 
path of duty as to compromise, if nut to confederate 
and covenant, with the world ? — Never, never are 
our eternal interests more in jeopardy than when 
we are inclined to act in this manner. There is no 
concord between Christ and Belial, no fellowship 



94. 

between light and darkness, — and lie wlio has once 
drank at the fountain of hvin^r waters can neither 
slake his thirst nor receive nourishment from tiie 
mixed and polluted streams of mere earthly enjoy- 
ment. Should they, like the Gibeonites, present 
themselves under a deceptive form, and strongly 
allure us, then is our time to flee, lest they ensnare 
us — to flee and ask counsel and help of Him who 
is mighty to save. 

" How often do we pretend to seek direction from 
God, and yet act exactly as our own minds inclined 
us before we consulted him, just as we sometimes 
ask the opinion of a friend upon a subject concerning 
which we arc already fully determined. While pil- 
grims and sojourners here, there is no enjoyment 
equal to that we receive when we can divest our- 
selves of worldly cares; or if we are burdened with 
these when we can lay them and ourselves before 
the footstool of sovereign mercy, and humbly enter 
into the presence chamber of the Lord, and hold con- 
verse with the ' Father of spirits.' When are our 
anticipations of heavenly and eternal felicity more 
bright and strong than at such seasons ? And there 
is a peace that passeth understanding, a peace to 
which the world are indeed strangers, in lying low, 
abased before God ; and in the place thus rendered 
solemn, yea awful, by his presence, to confess and 
deplore our most secret sins. 

" The more knowledge a person has as his own 
heart the more he realizes the extent of its deccitful- 
ness ; the longer he travels in the narrow path, the 
more sensible he is of his own entire helplessness ; and 
the more frequently and earnestly he seeks counsel 
and direction from Him who has said he will perfect 



95 

liis strength in the weakness of mortals, the more 
will he feci that ' only while he prays he lives.' In 
the language of Montgomery, 

•Preyer is the christian's vital breath, 
The christian's native air ; 
The watchword at the gates of death — 
He enters heaven with prayer.' 

"July 2, 1830." 



CHAPTER VI. 

Painful Sundering of Ties— Visit to Saybrook— Beautiful Land- 
scape — Conversation with an Unbeliever — Value of Christian 
Society — Sense of Responsibility — Comparison between Athens 
and New York — Fidelity in Impressing Divine Truth upon 
her Scholars — Memoirs of Mrs. Huntington— Spiritual Con- 
flicts — Increased Endeavours after Holiness. 

The Rev. Mr. Fraser, having returned from Scot- 
land, resumed the pastoral care of the 'Tabernacle.' 
The joy of Miss Foote on the occasion was soon 
changed to sorrow. On the last Sunday in July he 
took a final leave, and she was compelled to witness 
the dissolution of the church and Sunday school 
with which she had been connected. 

Writino; to her friend under the date of August 
1, she says, "Our little 'Tabernacle' no longer 
exists a church ; yes, that tie is broken — need I add 
the thought of it almost broke my heart ? Our Sun- 
day school too is dispersed. Oh ! had you seen the 
dear children you would have felt too. I knew not 
the intention of Mr. F. untill he stated, at the close 
of his subject, ' This is probably the last time I shall 
ever address you from this sacred desk.' He then 



96 

referred to providential circumstances lliat would 
induce him to pass the remainder of his days in his 
native land. He spoke of the few who, he could 
humbly hope, were fruits of his ministry here. He 
reminded such of the circumstances attending their 
conversion and public dedication to God, and pointed 
to the spot where, in the ' presence of God, an<^els, 
and men,' they entered into a perpetual covenant. 
He ur^ed them by these sacred recollections to walk 
ever mindful of their high vocation. How my 
mind rested on these things as he referred to them ! 
Well did I recollect the time, the place, — I stood and 
vowed, — I knelt, and water from the baptismal font 
was poured upon me — the names of Father, Son, and 
Holy Ghost were uttered in avoice I can never forget. 
" The children were requested to stop after ser- 
vice. Mr. Fraser addressed them in an aifecting 
manner and retired. We were taken so much by 
surprise, that it was with difficulty we could suppress 
our feelinjfs or "ivc such directions to the scholars as 
seemed necessary." 

To these sources of anxiety was added the removal 
of her friend Catharine * to an adjoining state. 
AlludiniT to this in the letter from which our last 
extract was taken, she asks, " Can it be ? where are 
our plans, our anticipated pleasures, our uninterrupted 
intercourse? ' Truly man sees not through the thin 
partition of an hour.' " 

" Monday, Seven o'clock, a. m. The morning 

has at length come when my dear Catharine is to 

assume new difficulties and new responsibilities. It 

is a lovely, delightful morning. I have prayed, and 

• She ooened u school at Paterson, N. J. 



97 

will pray, that your strength fail not, or rather that 

strength may be given you for the performance of 

every duty. Tell mc in your next how you succeed. 

1 closed school on Friday, and intend leaving on 

Wednesday afternoon for Saybrook. Should it be 

fair weather I shall have a delightful sail. Think of 

me as you gaze on Luna. Think of me as you plead 

at twilight." 

The manner in which hertimewas employed during 

the vacation may be gathered from the following 

letters : — 

Saybrook, August 6, 1830. 

" Well, my dear Catharine, my plans and expec- 
tations are so far realised, that I have left the city, 
the bustling, noisy city, and, as you will see by the 
date of this, am in the land of steady habits. Ima- 
, gine me in a very ancient house, the first built in the 
place — (you recollect the commencement and progress 
of this settlement — the object of its name, &c.) — 
imagine me in this antique place — in a room so spa- 
cious and hollow, as to remind me of some deserted 
castle. The sun is shining with all its morning 
brightness. But the scene from the windows, be- 
tween which I am sitting, I cannot attempt to de- 
scribe — I will only tell you some of the features in 
this widely-extended, variegated, and to me beautiful 
landscape. 

" In the front of the house, which is situated in 
that part of the town called the ' Point,' the river 
widens sufficiently to form a bay. The opposite 
shore is level for a short distance, and then one little 
hill rises after another, some covered with shrubbery, 
and others presenting a smooth velvet surface, without 
E 63 



98 

a sini^le busli. Then, a more lofty eminence, con- 
sistinfj apparently of rocks, but covered with brown 
and yellow moss, so as to form a good contrast with 
the surrounding scenery. If I turn my eye on the 
other side, I see a narrow stream whose surface, 
smooth as glass, reflects the rays of the sun with an 
almost dazzling splendour. Beyond this is a mea- 
ilow of yellow green ; and farther still, hills and 
valleys, smooth surfaces, and dark green foliage, fol- 
low each other in rapid succession, untill the view is 
bounded by the distant horizon. 

" My aunt's family met me with open arms, and 
i hearty welcome. They say, now they have me 
here, the}' shall use their power over me as long as 
they please. I am disposed to stay a week or ten 
davs, and hope to get that rest, refreshment, ami 
strength, I so much need. 

" All the objects around remind me continuallv 
that ' (jod is near.' I have found a throne of grace 
accessible, and plead, with some degree of faith and 
earnestness, for the special object of our prayers, oui 
dear friend H. When I thought of his situation, o\ 
the prospect of death without hope in Christ, I was 
enabled to commend him to God, and beg that he 
would hear the prayers that were offered in his behalf 

" Yours as ever, JSarah L ." 

"ClKitliani, Ct. August 13, 1838. 
" My dear C, — 1 left ^aybrook yesterday morn- 
inir and met H. on board the boat. His health evi- 
dently requires a change of air. But his spiritual state 
is like Egyptian darkness. I felt bold to speak, 
though not in my own strength, and told him, I had 



99 

often thought of him since leaving N. Y., and as 
often feh, that if he only had hope in Christ, I should 
have no further wish concerning his health. Though 
life and health were dcsirahle, yet his eternal interests 
rose in my estimation ahove every thing else. He 
was solemn and attentive ; I proceeded, ' How do 
death and eternity appear to you ?' ' All is darkness 
and uncertainty,' was his reply. After further con- 
versation, I enquired, * Do you not believe that you, 
and every created being, are dependent, for the con- 
tinuation of life, on the great First Cause of all 
things ?' ' No, 1 do not believe it ; if I did, I 
should act differently ; yes, my whole belief would 
be very diiierent from what it now is.' ' How does 
this grass grow ?' said I. He was silent. I was full 
to overflowing, and could only exclaim, ' God ot 
mercy, give him light.' 

" After an interval of silence, I said, ' It would 
seem that our love of self would lead us to sock an 
increase of our happiness here, by securing the con- 
solations of religion, which the gospel of Jesus only 
can bestow. You know nothing of the comfort of 
having a God for a refuge, — a throne of grace to flee 
to in trouble, where every feeling and desire may be 
spread without reserve, and in full assurance that the 
Lord will graciously hear your petitions.' ' No, 1 
know nothing like it.' I added, ' Even if existence 

ends with this life, and all beyond is Oh ! it is 

not so — it is real; religion brings clearly to view, 
life and immortality beyond the grave, — it is built 
on the Rock of aires, it will never fail.* ' I cannot 
see it so,' he said. ' Did you ever ask that you 
might!' 'No, not with a right disposition.' Ask 
and you shall receive, — seek and you shall find. 



100 

" ' I do hope, Sarali,' said he, ' that I shall yet be 
brought to see and feel all this, if I am not right now.' 

'"If I am right, thy grace impart, 
Still in the right to stay; 
If I am wrong, oh, teach my lieart 
To find the better way.' 

" May that God whom we profess to love, and 
who has the hearts of all in his hands, turn him from 
the error, the gross darkness of his ways, shed the 
light of the Sun of Righteousness upon his mind, 
and lead him in the way everlasting. 

" When I think of returning to New York, the 
late changes there rise before me and fill my heart 
with sadness. But the thought comes home with 
interest and force, though all others are away, though 
all else change, God is ever present, ever the same. 
May I be kept from idols, and seek ray all in him 
and from him. Ever your own Sarah." 

«' Chatham, August 17, 1830. 
" Where would our course tend, were we permitted 
to order our own steps ? Who is not convinced that ' 
ruin would ensue ? — and yet knowing this, how can 
we hesitate yielding up our all, our temporal and 
eternal interests, into His hands who cannot err ? 
How often is good brought from apparent evil — 
light from darkness; and still we cling to our own 
plans, and desire their accomplishment witli just as 
much earnestness as though we could bring tiiem all 
to pass. Shall our own petty concerns claim all our 
thoucrhts, all- our exertions, when we are in the midst 
of a world lying in wickedness, surrounded by those 
endeared to us by the ties of nature, who are still in 



101 

the bondage of sin? Is not our enjoyment just in 
proportion to our spiritual-mindedness, and our efforts 
to promote the cause of Christ? Oh, for the spirit 
of a missionary — for the spirit of Christ my Saviour ! 
When will this evil disposition be subdued, and my 
whole mind be brought into subjection to the law of 
Christ. If we were to look more frequently into 
our own hearts, if we were to study ourselves more, 
should we not be more humble, and live more like 
Christians?" 

This temporary release from the care of her school, 

the bracing air of the country, and the kindness of 

friends, had a salutary influence upon her health and 

spirits. She looked with cheerfulness on the face 

of nature, and loved to trace in every object and event 

the benevolent regard of her heavenly Father. A 

few days before her return to the city, writing to a 

friend, she gives a pleasing sketch of some of her 

excursions. 

" Chatham, August 23, 7 o'clock, a.m. 

'' I have just returned from my morning walk, 
which led me to the eminence east of the ' New 
House.' As I was ascending the hill, I almost 
unconsciously exclaimed, ' See, yonder comes the 
powerful king of day rejoicing in the east.' The sun 
appearing in glory soon dissipated the blue mist, 
which was slowly rising from the verdant hills and 
the unruffled river. My walk was solitary, but by 
no means dreary ; for who can be lonely amid such a 
scene? Still, my enjoyment at such times is always 
enhanced when shared. 

"The view of M , of the river, the scencrv 

above and below, is from tliat spot fair and extensive. 



102 

You have been near it, therefore I shall not attempt 
tiescription, but of my Saturtl.iy's delights you shall 
have some account. My good sister H. and myself 

started at an early hour for B , about nine miles 

to the west of us. Our ride lay along the bank of 
a beautiful stream, bordered with velvet green flats, 
groves of willows 'melancholy waving,' clusters of 
other trees, cottages, and all the variety and simpli- 
city which when combined are so pleasing. Some- 
times might be seen a lofty distant hill entirely 
covered with shrubbery, while nearer appeared a 
verdant spot surrounded by trees. These reminded 
me forcibly of the green sunny spots which memory 
now and then meets with in her review of the past. 
" We commenced our homeward ride at six, p. m., 
and all that had so dcli"hted me in the morninjr 
was rendered still more beautiful by the softness and 
richness which the full rays of the declining sun 
cast over it. 'Twas a feast to the eyes — 'twas re- 
freshing to the mind. Who, thought I, can gaze on 
nature here, and not acknowledfrc and adore 'nature's 
God.' The sunset was cloudless — it was glorious 
— and yet it inspired me with feelings so pensive as 
to amount almost to S'idness. ' Twilight had in her 
sober livery all things clad ' before we reached 
M— — . Do you know that the hour of twilight 
is with C. and myself a consecrated season ? Oh, 
cousin H., would that you, from experience, could 
testify to the rational soul-satisfying enjoyment there 
is to be found in calling upon God." 

" Tuesiiuy, 1 o'clock, />. m. 

" This is the last hour I spend at home. 'ilicre 



103 

is something stran£fely affecting to me in that word 
' last.' 1 am not given to gloomy forebodings, and 
yet when I think — the last — it reaches ray heart. 
I have just heard, through Mrs. T., that you arc very 
unwell, and feared another attack of bleeding. Why 
did you not tell me so? I took encouragement from 
vour silence on the subject, and, as you closed ' in 
haste,' supposed you did not think to mention it. I 
would again, (would that I could do it effectually,) 
plead with you to attend with all diligence to the 
interests of your immortal soul. 

" Your sincere friend, Sarah. 

The first letter she wrote after resuming her 
duties in the city, was to her sister Jerusha, who, 
as yet, gave no evidence of having chosen that good 
part which can never be taken away. 

New York, September 4-, 1830. 

" My dear Sister, — The recollection that this 
night completes your twentieth year has given rise 
to a variety of thoughts, and awakened many desires 
for your happiness. My neglecting to say much on 
this subject when at home was not because I did not 
then think or feel concerning your case. I can never 
cease to feel most deeply for you. But how shall 
I induce you to feel for yourself? Shall I ask you 
to review the past, — to look back as far as your 
memory extends, and trace the merciful dealings ot 
the Lord? 

" Will not many blessings and privileges rise to 
your mind? You will remember when you were 
indifferent, entirely unconcerned about the great and 



101. 

all-important subject. You will recollect the time 
when you embraced the doctrine, which is so pleaslni^ 
to the carnal mind, the unchanged heart ; — nor can 
you forget the season, when you were I- ought to 
see the fallacy of that belief, — the need of a new 
heart, — of forgiveness of sin through Christ, of re- 
pentance, and faith. You felt then, that there was 
little in time worth living for, compared with eternal 
realities. You felt the emptiness of earth, and its 
insufficiency to give enjoyment without the consola- 
tions of religion. And why did you feel this? Why 
were your eyes opened, to see things in this their 
true light ? It was by the influence of that blessed 
Spirit, whom we are commanded not to grieve ; and 
of whom it is declared, ' He shall not always strive 
with man.' 

" Were you not often invited to come to Jesus — 
to seek that pi-ace which he alone can give ? You 
thought you desired to be a christian, and were 
willing to give up the world, to secure an inheritance 
in the realms of bliss. Do you feel that you have 
given up the world entirely ? I fear not ; but if you 
have, it would not purchase heaven for you. It is 
the surrender of your heart, of yourself, that God 
requires. And why delay this act? Why longer 
grieve the Spirit, and put oflp that which, by defer- 
ring, becomes more difficult? Perhaps you are 
waiting for deeper convictions of sin ; or for some- 
thing you hardly know what. It may be you are 
trying by your own unaided exertions, to recommend 
yourself to Christ, and are not willing to come 
with all your sins upon you. But if you tarry till 
you are better, you will never come." 



105 

" Stiiidiiy Morning. 

" My thoughts have rested, this morning, on my 
dear friends, with more than ordinary interest. Oh, 
that I could look beyond this vale of tears, in the con- 
fident expectation of meeting them, and spending an 
eternal Sabbath with them, in that world of which 
this brijrht and beautiful morninfr, and these cloudless 
skies, may give us some faint idea ! But the chiet 
beauty and excellence of that state will be, that God 
himself shall be there, — and the Lamb in the 
fflidst. Sin and pollution shall never disturb or 
distress ; — all — all there will be what eye hath not 
seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart conceived. To 
secure this, how plain is the way ! how reasonable 
the conditions ! and yet how difficult for the sinner 
to accept ! What a clinging there is to earthly idols ! 
But, my dear sister, difficult as it appears, it is only 
'look and live;' confess and heartily forsake sin, and 
it shall be forgiven you ; yea more, cast yourself 
upon the mercy of Him who died to redeem you, and 
not only pardon but eternal life is yours. And is 
not this the safest course? If you refuse to give 
yourself to the Lord, the word of inspiration says 
you must be eternally miserable. 

" Read the 30th chapter of Deuteronomy, — and 
choose even this day whom you will serve. Let 
this be a new era in your life, Resolve, humbly, 
and in the strength of the Lord, that whatever 
others may do, you will serve him. Do you shrink 
in view of difficulties, — put your trust wholly in the 
Lord, and he will never permit you to be overcome 
or confounded. There is no time for delay. Not 
only resolve, but act. Begin, by unceasing prayer, 
E 2 



106 

lor liifht to see the way of diity, and for strength to 
walk therein. Shrink not from the requirements of 
the Gospel, but seek to be actuated by right motives. 
Ask for zeal according to knowledge. Let your first 
ciiorts be to secure the approbation of your God, and 
the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. 

" Feebly as I have expressed myself, you will 
not, my dear Jerusha, despise the course I recom- 
mend. You will not reject it, I know you will not. 
Do not then defer complying, — not with my advi^ 
.•md my terms, but with the terms of the Gosp^ 
Take that as your guide. Read it much, and with 
prayer. Resist the tempter and he will flee from you. 

" Your deeply-interested and affectionate sister, 

Sarah." 

Though Miss Foote could plead earnestly with 
others to be reconciled to God, and describe with 
glowing feelings the happiness to be found in the 
yiihs of religion, yet she was no stranger to seasons 
of doubt and darkness. Her confessions of sin, of the 
wandering of her heart, and the divided state of her 
affections, were often so touching as powerfully to 
elicit the sympathy of her friends. She loved the 
society of those who had chosen the Saviour for 
their portion. Her intercourse with them revived 
her spirits, and excited her to engage, with renewed 
zeal, in the christian warfare. The thought that 
these conflicts were not peculiar to lierself, that tliey 
were often experienced by the children of God ; 
while it did not induce here to relax her vigilance, 
aided in keeping her from despondency. In her 
darkest hours she could look beyond this transitory 



107 

scene, and hold communion with an ever-present and 

eternal Friend. 

" September 8. 

" My eyes never fill but with tears of grati- 
tude, in thinking of the way in which the Lord 
has led me, and of his merciful dealings towards 
me. When retracing these, liis hand is so plaiidy 
seen that I can only adore and weep. These re- 
views strengthen my confidence ; and inspire me 
with firmer hope. Yet, when reflecting on the glo- 
rious inheritance to which the child of God is iicir 
beyond this probationary state, I cannot, at times, 
believe that all this is in store for a being so 
unworthy and useless. 

" I realized my responsibility more than usual 
last week, and strongly desired to be more faithful, 
more consistent in my conduct, and to keep nearer 
to the throne of grace, 1 would awake, though 
burdened, and arise, and cast myself upon God. 
How necessary to have such a view of earth, and all 
its concerns, as shall lead me to place a just esti- 
mate upon them — to look upon every object in the 
light of eternity, and with reference to the final 
judgment ! O Lord, help me to follow Christ, 
through evil as well as good report ; and to cherish 
an abiding sense of the value of immortal souls." 

In a letter to a friend, on the 16th of September, 
she transcribed the following hymn, and remarked, 
" This is a favourite of mine. I love to dwell on 
the sentiments which it contains." 



108 

" I would not live ahvay. I ask not to stay 
Where storm alter storm rises dark o'er the way j 
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here 
Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. 

" I would not live ahvay, thus fetter'd by sin ;] 
Temptation vv-ithout, and corruption within. 
E'en the rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, 
And the cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears. 

" I would not live ajway; no — welcome the tomb, 
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom ; 
There, sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise 
To hail him in triumph descending the skies. 

" Who, who would live alway, away from liis God ; 
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, 
Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, 
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns : 

"Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet, 
Their Saviour and brethren tran-sported to greet ; 
While the anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, 
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul !" 

" September 27, 18.30. 

" Another Sunday, with its exalted privileges, 
has passed away. The review only of this one day 
is enough, considered in reference to the dread tri- 
bunal, to depress my spirits. Why do I not strive more 
earnestly and continually to be conformed to the spirit 
of my Lord and Master ? How can I believe myself 
an accountable being, accountable for the improvement 
or abuse of time, talents, and influence, without making 
an cttbrt to divest myself of the unholy influences 
which keep me in bondage to the world ? Why do 
1 not awake and put on the whole armour of God, 
and live as a child of the liiiht ? 



109 

" I listened, this afternoon, to an awakening dis- 
course. The preacher instituted a comparison be- 
tween idolatrous Athens and New York. The for- 
mer had more temples than all the rest of Greece. 
It had an altar for every human passion, — for gods 
of other nations, — for the Unknown God. All this 
was when science was in the acme of its glory. 
But, professing themselves wise, they became fools, 
and changed the glory of the incorruptible God into 
an image made like to corruptible man. 

" This great city is professedly enlightened, and 
christianized ; but does not the eajjerness with 
which a great majority of the inhabitants seek wealth 
and honour, or devote themselves to sinful indul- 
gences, amount to idolatry ? All this is done amidst 
the full blaze of Gospel light. Are we then very 
far behind Athens in folly or in guilt? How many 
here are destitute of religious knowledge, and never 
come within the sound of the Gospel ! Surely the 
worth of the soul has never yet been impressed on 
our minds, or we should be vigilant, persevering, un- 
wearied in exertions. 

" I called on all my Sunday scholars yesterday. 
Their eyes brightened with joy when they saw me. 
They are a hopeful little band. My interest in them 
continually increases. May I be taught of God, and, 
should I be privileged to continue with them, be 
more faithful, circumspect, and consistent. 

" Your ever affectionate Sarah." 

The mental conflicts of Miss Foote induced her 
to ask the advice of a clerical friend. The result 
appears to have been salutary. She was enabled to 



110 

look away from herself, and fix her thoufrhts on the 
Saviour. The Lonl was evidently preparing her, by 
a severe discipline, for increasing usefulness. Her 
conscience was tenderly alive to every neglect of 
duty. The spiritual welfare of lier pupils acquired 
a stronger hold of her affections. She found renew- 
ed pleasure in placing before them, Jesus Christ, as 
the only Saviour of guilty men. Her prayers and 
her instructions were accompanied with a blessing. 
Several of them became anxious to obtain an inte- 
rest in the great salvation. 

Fully sensible of her dependence upon the influ- 
ence of the Holy Spirit, and deeply affected with a 
sense of her personal guilt, she implored the Lord to 
aid her by his holy counsels, to keep her in that 
frame which would be most acceptable in his sight 
— to cleanse her heart from all iniquity, and to make 
her the honoured instrument in his hands of conduct- 
ing these dear children in the path of peace and 
holiness. Those who have been in similar situa- 
tions, and felt the weight of their responsibility, will 
readily conceive, how painful must have been her 
solicitude. They know too, from heart-felt experi- 
ence, how comforting it is, to be able to go to a 
throne of grace, and cast all their cares upon Him 
who careth for them, and will never be unmindful of 
the importunate supphcations of his devoted chil- 
dren. 

In a letter to her friend, on the 9th of Oct., she 
thus writes : " Though I have not recently had that 
light and joy which many experience, yet I have 
felt it a privilege to cast myself at the foot of the 
cross, with the determination to live henceforth by 



Ill 

faith ill the Son of God. Oh for f^racc ! Surely, 
if any person ever needed a double portion of the 
Spirit, it is your weak erring friend. May we both 
ever keep near the Saviour, and, remembering our 
weakness and our entire dependence, be more watcii- 
ful, — more zealously engaged in the cause of our 
divine Master." 

" November H, 1830. 

"My dear C, — In reading tlie life of Mrs. Hunting- 
ton, I have been greatly struck with the similarity of 
many of her feelings and of ray own. I find her 
expressing doubts of her ever having had correct 
views of the character of God and his attributes, 
and of the odiousness of sin in his sight. She 
doubted, but did not despair. I had, for several days 
previous to commencing it, earnestly longed for 
right views of God — of sin — and of Christ, as the 
Redeemer and Mediator. At times, if this sinful 
heart did not deceive me, I realized that God was 
on the throne of the universe, 'swaying the sceptre 
of universal dominion.' The inquiry was suggested. 
Who am I, to rebel against him? Why do I not 
humble myself more, and exercise more hearty 
repentance on account of sin ? Unless even the 
appearance of evil is avoided, and every avenue to 
the heart strictly guarded, sinful thoughts will gain 
admittance. 

" In referring to Mrs. H., I do not mean to com- 
pare myself with her in attainments, experience, or 
any of the christian graces; I may admire, and so 
far as she followed Jesus, seek to imitate her example. 
It is a continual source of grief to me that pride has 



112 

such a place in my heart, and is so frequently mani- 
fested in my words and actions. But I can more 
freely than formerly pour out my soul to God, and 
ask him to purify me from everything that is offen- 
sive to him. 

" At these seasons, it seems to me that no suffer- 
ing or sacrifice would be unwelcome that had a ten- 
dency to weaken my love to the world, and make 
me more heavenly-minded. At other times, I 
shrink from the thought, and ask myself How could 
I endure the fiery trials through which some of the 
Lord's servants have been required to pass! Yet 
with all my weakness, may I not confidently believe 
that the promise will be verified, ' As thy days so 
shall thy strength be ?' 

"November 21. I have again been reading in 
Mrs. H.'s memoirs. Few persons have exhibited 
more conformity to the image of the blessed Saviour, 
or more entire submission to the will of God. His 
glory seemed to be the great all with her. 'God 
knows best,' was her reply to every murmuring 
thought or rebellious feeling. Why am I so easily 
discouraged ? 1 fear I am too anxious to arrive at 
particular frames of feeling, instead of acting as 
thoujih I believed that it is the general tenor of 
our desires, and the usual state of our hearts and 
aflPections, by which we should judge of our spiritual 
condition. My unworthy name is enrolled among 
the disciples of Jesus in the records of the church 
on earth, can I rationally hope it is written in the 
Lamb's hook of life? Oh, for Divine assistance in 
the performance of every duty ! 

" May I not indulge the hope that we shall be 



113 

permitted again to enjoy personal intercourse, and 
take sweet counsel together? Let us ever remember 
that we are not our own; that we, and all those 
things most dear to us, are at tlie disposal of an all- 
wise Being. I would sit at Jesus' feet, and hang 
upon the promises. Though I have not such a 
sense of God's presence, or that enjoyment in 
prayer which I desire, yet I sometimes find relief 
at a throne of grace, and can hope that my Father 
will lend a listening ear to my supplications, and 
grant me those things which are asked according to 
his will. 

" How happy must they be whose wills are swal- 
lowed up in the Divine will — who see the hand of 
the Lord in every event, and, in all their ways, ac- 
knowledge him — who do indeed love him supremely, 
and live by faith in his dear Son ! I would love 
the Bible more, and understand it better. I feel 
the need of having clearer views of holiness and 
heaven, and of seeking more constantly to leave 
myself entirely in the Lord's hands, trustuig that 
he will teach and guide, — own and bless. Pray for 
me, that I may ever live to his glory. 

" Your affectionate but unworthy friend, 

Sakah." 

To Miss B., SCOTCHTOWN, N. J. 

" New York, November 22, 1830. 
" Well, dear Mehitabel, the month of November 
is almost gone, and where are you? Must I be dis- 
appointed in the pleasing cherished anticipation of 
again enjoying personal intercourse with you ? Oii, 
time, time ! — who can reckon its rapid flight? Six 



114 

months have fled since we met; and what is the 
' report tlicy have home to heaven?' The first in- 
quiry which it hecomcs to make is, what has been 
our progress in the divine life ? Alas, my dear friend, 
a history of all my feelings, of my resolutions to for- 
sake sin — and again transorcssing, while it would 
interest you, because it concerns me, would be of 
little benefit. Do not think I am averse to free and 
urneserved communications. I have often been re- 
lieved and comforted by them. Yet there are seasons 
when it is almost impossible to give expression to my 
feelings. 

" Though my conflicts have been peculiarly severe, 
I have no cause for complaint. ' Our God is un- 
changeable,' ' the same yesterday, to-day, and for 
ever.' If we forsake him, must we not expect to 
walk in spiritual darkness ? What strange incon- 
sistency for those who have found that happiness 
which is produced by the blessed truths of the Gos- 
pel, to turn to this fallacious, unsatisfying world ! 

*' Are not persons of an ardent temperament — 
whose sensibility is acute and strong, in more danger 
of being overcome by temptation than those of a 
contrary disposition ? Surely such need a ' double 
portion' of grace. They must indeed 'pray and 
never faint,' if they would press forward in the narrow 
way. 

" Would not a more frequent contemplation of 
the Divine perfections — especially of the holiness of 
God, lessen our love of self, and increase our hatred 
of sin? Are there not many professed christians 
whose comfort respecting the future is drawn much 
jnore from the thought that their eternal happiness 



115 

will tlien be secured, than that they shall be per- 
mitted to dwell in the blissful presence of God, free 
from imperfection, beholding the Saviour in all the 
brightness of his glorv ? 

" Your ever affectionate, Sarah ." 

Conscious of many imperfections, she made un- 
ceasing endeavours to advance in the cliristian race. 
Each new discovery of unsubdued sin increased 
her watchfulness, and excited her to persevere with 
unremitted diligence. She felt that the period for 
efibrt was short, and the requisitions of the Gospel 
imperative. Slothfulness in her Master's vineyard 
was highly criminal. These thouglits pressed upon 
her heart; she gave expression to them when writing 
to her friend. 

"November 27, 1830. 

" My own dear Catharine, — What shall I say? 
You know the strength of my attachment to you — 
but, as Mrs. H. says, ' God loves you better than I 
do.' Why have we so little confidence in him? 
How can we wander so frequently from him, who 
careth continually for us, and constantly upholds us ! 
If we ever reach the * shore of blest eternity,' what 
shall we then think, what shall we then feel, in view 
of our present unbelief? 

"Let us call to mind all the way our God has led 
us — let us thank him and take courage, laying 
hold upon his strength, and rejoicing that we are to 
walk by faith and not by sight. My dear C, why 
are our souls so languid ? Can we not plead that 
we may be quickened in the divine life — strengthened 
anew for the conflict'"' 



116 

Alluding to the memoirs of two females eminent 
for their piety, she remarks, " some of their charac- 
teristics I think arc very dissimilar, but 1 love them 
both ; no doubt they now see eye to eye, and walk 
together in the golden streets of the New Jerusalem. 
They have entered into rest — but they toiled and 
watched and prayed. Shall we yield to discourage- 
ment when assured that if faithful we shall come off 
more than conquerors; — yea, that we shall receive a 
crown of life ? 

" May we be zealous followers of those who, 
through faith and patience, are now inheriting the 
promises. Oh ! what is the longest life, compared 
with eternity ? It is nothing ; — and when we can 
look beyond the bounds of time, all the things by 
which we are now surrounded seem as nothing; 
but we live by minutes, and are creatures of feeling; 
hence we are affected by the evcry-day occurrences 
of life. 

'•• How common is the petition, ' Help me to live 
as I shall wish I had done when 1 come to die;' 
and yet how little do we strive for this, or seek to 
live each day as if it were our last. Oh ! let us de- 
sire that our future plans may be left with God ; 
let us ask that one principle may ever constrain us — 
love to God ! and that we may have the attainment 
of one end continually in view — the glory of God ! 
May we do this, desiring to leave all at his disposal. 
His way is best. He will direct our steps if we 
trust in him, and prepare us for the joy of his ever- 
lasting kingdom. 

" Yours affectionately, Sarah.' 



117 



CHAPTER VII. 

Self-examination — " Advice to a Young Christian " — Female Bio- 
graphy — Arduous Duties of Iier Sehool — Dangerous Illness of 
a Sister — Interesting Seasons with lier Pupils — Reflections at 
the Close of the Year — Bishop IM'Ilvaine — Divine purpose in 
permitting some of the Canaanites to remain in the Holy 
Land — Tendency of Afflictions to draw the Heart to God — 
Affecting case of Destitution and Suffering — Letter from Rev. 
J. A. Clark. 

Miss FooTE employed much time in the examina- 
tion of her own heart, and fervently prayed for the 
illumination of the Holy Spirit, that she might see 
her defects, be cleansed from all iniquity, and en- 
gage, with elevated faith, in every department of 
duty. It is pleasing to perceive, that, though sur- 
rounded by many temptations, she was aspiring after . 
greater deadness to the world, with her eye fixed on 
the atonement of Jesus as the only ground of her 

confidence. 

December 5, 1830. 

" As an accountable and immortal being, as a 
professing christian, I have many duties to pe''form, 
duties to God, to myself, and to the world. If I 
hope or desire to perform these aright, it is neces- 
sary that my own heart should be right. Yes, it is 
necessary that this seat of iniquity should be cleansed, 
and made meet for the residence of the Holy Spirit. 
As a christian, I cannot be satisfied with present at- 
tainments, but should earnestly and continually 
desire to employ those means which will aid in pro- 



IIS 

ducing a conformity to the will and image of the 
blessed Jesus. 

" Believing that frequent self-examination is one 
of the greatest help to a knowledge of our own 
true state, and having found myself greatly assisted 
in this, by occasionally recording the exercises of 
my mind, the resolutions formed, and the mercies 
enjoyed, 1 have resumed the practice. 

" Enable me, O Lord, to act from a clear sense 
of duty in forming resolutions ; and preserve me from 
abusing tliy manifold mercies. M.iy 1 judge myself 
impartiallv, and steadfastly resist the unhallowed 
influence of a desire for the approbation of the world. 
Help me to keep a conscience void of offence, and 
tenderly dive to thy requirements. Above all, may 
I seek til glorify thee, and ever feel that I am not 
my own, but wholly and voluntarily thiiie. Make 
me more holy, and more devoted to the great con- 
cerns of my soul. Preserve me from sinful desires 
and moti\es. Teach me, in infinite mercy, more of 
myself, or' my offences, and my helplessness, that I 
may love thee more, and rest entirely upon Christ 
as my Saviour. May I not only see, but feel; may 
I have that faith which works by love, purities the 
heart, an 1 overcomes the world. 

" Have this evening finished the perusal of ' Ad- 
vice to a Young Christian,' and hope I can sincerely 
thank God that it was placed in my hand. Rarely 
have I r.ad any thing on the subject so clear, so 
full of feeling. It is just what I need. May the 
advice be received and loved and followeil. In 
pursuance of the recommendation of the writer, and 
with huHihle confidence in Divine ;iid, I resolve that 



119 

at the close of each day I will examine myself, 
scrutinize my motives of action, 'analyse my t'celings,* 
see what duties have been performed, and what 
have been left undone, or carelessly and superficiallv 
attended to. Lord, thou knowest me altogether, 
thou canst not be deceived, thou wilt not be mocked. 
May this thought lead me to flee every approach to 
deception, may it urge me to duty, and may I in the 
performance of duty be accepted through Christ." 

She alludes to the same subject at a later period, 
in a letter to her friend C, and expresses her surprise 
that the duty had received so small a share of her 
attention. 

" Yesterday, I endeavoured to ascertain whether 
my affections were really placed upon the Lord. 
But I could only appeal to Him who knows' all 
things, and beg, yea implore, with bitter tears, that I 
might be delivered from hypocrisy and self-delusion. 
Dear C, how much we have to do ! Without 
stepping beyond the boundaries of the 'little world 
within,' we have enough to occupy our time, and en- 
gage our thoughts. Add to this, the duty we owe 
to God and to our fellow- creatures ; — can we be 
idle? 

" You speak of the necessity of self-examination ; 
is it not surprising that, untill recently, my atten- 
tion has been very little directed to the subject? 
This will account for my deficiency in self-know- 
ledge. I hope, by the blessing of God and the as- 
sistance of the Holy Spirit, to attend daily to this 
duty. Do you not think there is great danger of 
performing it superficially? Often, when I have 
been pursuing the examination, the inquiry of my 



120 

heart has appeared in such a hght, that I have 
shrunk from the view, and turned my thouglits to 
another subject. INIay a sense of ray deficiency 
humble me in the dust, and lead me to exalt Him 
who can teach and enlighten. 

" You ask my opinion of religious biography, and 
of the emulation it excites. It certainly has a powerful 
effect. I think the perusal of well-written narratives, 
and especially memoirs of females, has a happy 
influence, and is calculated to inspire with confidence 
on the one hand and humility on the other. 

" Mrs. H. appears to have had very little unre- 
served intercourse with her friends, — that christian 
communion, — that interchange of feelings which has 
a tendency, when properly regulated, to promote our 
comfbrt, and increase our affection for each other. 
But perhaps those parts of her correspondence were 
omitted. Do not imagine that my opinion of her is 
less favourable than when I alluded to her before. 
My deep interest in the subject has led to this ex- 
pression of my views." 

Miss Foote's school liaving become so large as 
to render it impossible for her to perform its duties 
without assistance, she had for some time been 
solicitous to have a person associated with her who 
would diminish her cares and responsibility. This 
was the more necessary from repeated indications 
of disease, and an inability to use her voice without 
much suffering. Arrangements were accordingly made 
for her sister J. to assume a portion of the labour. 
At the time her arrival was expected, Sarah received 
the painful intelligence that this sister, for whose 
welfare she had cherished the deepest solicitude, 



121 

was dangerously ill. Her feelings on the occasion 

will be seen by an extract from a letter to her 

beloved C. 

"New York, December 11, J 830. 

" Did you receive my line with the Middletown 
letter? If so, you are anxious to learn how my 
friends are. My dear mother is recovering ; but 
oh, how shall I tell you, — how can 1 think of it? 
my dear Jerusha is in all probability rapidly hasten- 
ing to the grave. Yes, she who, a few short weeks' 
since, was so blooming, so full of life, hope, and 
animation, is now past exertion, — pale, emaciated, 
and daily declining. Her disease is a rapid con- 
sumption. You start. Where are my plans — 
where my promised enjoyment? Oh, Catharine, 
you will sympathise with me, — you know my affec- 
tion for her. Yet it is all right; — God, who cannot 
err, has done it, though the visitation has been so 
sudden that it seems a providence shrouded in 
darkness. 

" Dear C, plead with God, not for her life, 
but for her soul. Pray that she may indeed be re- 
newed in the temper and spirit of her mind, — that 
she may not be permitted to go into eternity unpre- 
pared. I expect to hear from her again this week, 
and, should she be no more comfortable, the day on 
which I have anticipated folding you to my heart 
will probably see me on the way to my sorrowful 
home." 

Allusions to her scholars, iu different letters, evince 

the fervour of her soul in their behalf. Speaking 

of the responsibility of a teacher, she says, " How 

many anxieties rest upon the mind ! what a variety 

F 63 



122 

of feelings fill tlic breast ! and, yet, 'tis a delightful 
task. Who, wlio can tell the destiny, the varied 
ieatures, of the Hves of the dear ones, now joyful 
and hght-heartcd around us? What a change among 
tliem will a ft'w, a very few short years effect ! — 
and eternity, — oh, who can tell ? 

" We need to receive constant supplies of grace. 
Let us then, dear M., plead for each other, that we 
may be faithful in the trust comniitted to us, and at 
last enter into the joy of our Lord. 

" Have you read Pollok's ' Course of Time'? If 
so, I think you will agree with me in admirin<r not 
only the sublimity of the style, but the loftiness and 
originality of many of the ideas. Let me know your 
opinion of it in your next letter." 

Ennobling views of the Divine character and per- 
fections were sometimes suggested to her mind 
M-hen earnestly engaged in imparting instruction. — 
" To-day, in school, I was speaking of the celestial 
system to my little scholars, and endeavouring to 
explain to them, how the stars hung in 'boundless 
space,' and were suns to other worlds. In attempt- 
ing to lead their minds to the contemplation of the 
greatness and power, and at the same time to the 
goodness and condescension of God, I was really filled 
with the thought, and, with unusual vividness, saw 
in God a being worthy of our love, confidence, and 
adoration ; and felt that the knowledge of such a 
being is calculated to dignify and exalt." 

On another occasion, she says, " I have this after- 
noon been endeavouring to impress on the minds of 
my scholars, the uncertainty and brevity of life, and 
the glorious hope which the christian has in view 



123 

of death. I was insensibly led into this strain, and 
vou know how every thought must, as it were, he 
simplified, that they may comprehend it. Whily 
conversing with them, I thought I could hid earth, 
and all its pleasures, cares, and pains, a glad adieu. , 
And oh ! I felt the responsibility of my charge, and, 
looking upon the little group around me, earnestly 
desired so to walk before them, as to lead them to 
believe, that I am indeed influenced by the princi- 
ples I inculcate. Oh, dear C, how watchful, how 
prayerful, how unwearied in our exertions ought we 

to be !" 

"Friday eve, Dec. 31. 1830. 

" Well, my dear C, the last hour in another year 
is nearly spent. Yes, another year is mingled with 
those already gone. What a season for reflection ! 
Blessings unmerited, privileges misimproved, changes 
in the circle of our friends, — oh, how many things 
rush upon the mind ! You have, I trust, spent the 
day as you contemplated, and received benefit from it. 
I have had more time than usual for retirement. 

" Read some portions of Scott's Commentary. 
His notes and practical observations on the 15th 
chapter of John, how true they are ! I felt a de- 
sire to be united, as a living branch, to Christ, the 
living Vine, and to feed upon his fullness, and to draw 
from thence strength, to bring forth more and more, 
yea, abundant fruit to his glory. If I have gained 
more knowledge of myself the past year there is too 
much cause to fear that I have profited but little by 
the dear-bought experience, and that the avenues to 
temptation and unbelief have not been suitably 
STuarded. 



124. 

" A sentence in the Commentary reminded me of 
what had been my own condition. * Christians find 
by experience, that any interruption in the exercise 
of faith abates the vigour of every holy affection, 
makes way, for the renewed energy of carnal inch- 
nation, and thus robs them of all enjoyment.' 

" I have reason to cry, in sincerity and bitterness 
of soul, * Create in me a clean heart, O God, and re- 
new a right spirit within me.' Now what shall be our 
resolutions ? Have we indeed, rcnewedly and un- 
reservedly, given ourselves to Him whose we are ? — 
then let us live to him, by walking circumspectly, 
redeeming the time, — no more our own ! Oh to be 
actuated continually by this thought ! — a constant 
recollection of it would surely be a powerful incentive 
to the performance of those duties, and the cherishing 
of those feelings, that are acceptable in the sight of 
God. 

" May He, in whose sight a thousand years are 
as one day, he who is able to keep you from fall- 
ing, and present you before the throne with exceed- 
ing joy, watch over, guide, and strengthen you, and 
supply you with every needed grace and blessing, 
prays your ever affectionate 

"Sarah." 

" January 1. 
" Heard the Rev. Mr. M'llvaine, from the 90th 
Psalm, 12th verse, — 'So teach us to number our 
days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.' 
In an eloquent, impressive, and affectionate manner, 
he entreated the people of his charge, to number 
their days according to the principles of Scripture — 



125 

to judge of the future from the past, and look for aid 
to the only source of true wisdom. He reminded 
them, that their days were not to be numbered by 
the seasons they had past, but by the manner in 
which they had lived. He pointed to the necessity 
of an experimental change of heart, the pleasure of 
a life of piety, and the importance of daily cherish- 
ing thoughts of death ; that when he comes we may 
meet him as a friend with whom we are familiarly 
acquainted, and welcome him as the harbinger of 
peace. What time more suitable to commence this 
work than a new year ? I felt the truth and force 
of the sentiments, and trust, I may be profited by 

them." 

"Jan. 3, 1831. 

" My school-room was very solemn this morning. 
May it become more and more so to me and my 
dear scholars. May this be a year in which the Lord 
will appear by his Spirit in our midst." 

She scrupulously watched over her heart, lest any 
feelings should have place there at variance with 
those which the Gospel enjoined. Every subject on 
which she reflected seemed to shed light on the in- 
terior movements of the soul, or to suggest consider- 
ations of practical Importance. She knew how to 
point the arrow of divine truth, at what was perverse 
in human action ; and was ever a severe judge of 
herself. When writing for the Bible class she 
always proceeded, from the general view unfolded by 
the subject, to the influence it should exert on the 
lives and consciences of individuals. The only re- 
maining exercises of this kind that have come into 
the possession of the writer belong to this period ot 



126 

her life. It is believed they will be read with profit 
by all who desire to walk in the path of holiness. 

" For what purpose did God leave the Canaanitish 
nations among the Israelites, and not hastily drive 
them out ? Judnes, chapter ii. 

" Had the ten tribes been permitted to enter unmo- 
lested into tlie promised land, and to retain undisputed 
possession of the ' goodly heritage,' we may suppose 
they would nevertheless have begotten Him who 
delivered them ' with a mighty hand and a stretched- 
out arm ;' for their idolatrous disposition was clearly 
manifested when, in full view of Sinai, they made and 
worshipped a golden calf. And not only then, but 
from the time the waves were divided for them, the 
more singal their mercies the more flairrant was their 
ingratitude. Even the covenant so solemnly made 
and so sacredly confirmed, was 'transgressed,' and the 
posterity of those who had served the Lord followed 
after other gods, and 'ceased not from their own doings 
and their stubborn way.' Well might the anger of 
the Lord wax hot against them, and induce him to 
declare, ' Because this people have transgressed my 
covenant which I commanded their fathers, and have 
not hearkened unto my voice, I also will not hence- 
forth drive out from before them any of the nations 
which Joshua left when he died, that through them 
I may prove Israel, whether they will keep the way 
of the Lord to walk therein, as their fathers did keep 
it, or not.' 

" If in the wanderings of the chosen people through 
the wilderness the christian can trace his own way, 
he will in their subsequent course find a delineation 
of the same. How often after detecting secret sins, 



127 

and being deeply afToctcd by them, making confession 
of guilt and forming resolutions of amendment ; yea, 
after renewedly entering into covenant with the Lord, 
and subscribing with his own hand to be the servant 
of the God of Jacob; — how often does he lind him- 
self again enshrhiing idols in his heart and giving to 
tlicm that homage which God alone can claim. I3y 
this he is tried, as was Israel, whether he will keep 
the way of the Lord and walk therein. He is shown 
more and more of his own weakness, and led to feel 
that his sufficiency is entirely of God. 

" If all our enemies were overcome at our entrance 
into the family of Christ, and all our evil propensities 
subdued, how different would be our course ! Our 
allegiance would not then be tested as it now is, nor 
should we so often feel that if we would dispossess 
the ' Canaanites,' 'we must be v^atchful every hour 
and pray, but not faint.' 

" The experience of every day shows us if we but 
watch the ' little world within,' that 

" ' Our dearest joys, our nearest friends, 
The partners of our blood, 
Tpo oft divide our wavering minds, 
And leave but half for God.' 

" Knowing this the heart-felt language of the 
christian will be, 

" ' The dearest idol I have known, 
Whate'er that idol be. 
Help me to tear it from tliy throne. 
And worship only thee.' 

" He will desire the removal of every thinj^ which 
hinders the course of a Saviour's love in his heart, 
* though dear to him as a right eye.' The greatest 



128 

earthly blessiiifrs may be so unduly estimated as to 
become our idols, and we may be as much ensnared 
by them as endangered by our spiritual foes. A 
little reflection on the slightness of the tenure by 
which we possess our temporal enjoyments is suffi- 
cient to convince us that we ought to hold them with 
a loose grasp — to ' use them as not abusing them,' 
that we may prove ourselves good stewards, 'faithful 
over a few things,' and worthy, through Him whom 
we seek to honour, to be ' made rulers over many 
things in his heavenly kingdom.' 
"Jan. 13, 1831." 

" To what did the oppression of the Midianites 
lead the Israelites? 

" Reduced to a distressing extremity, the Israelites 
cried unto the Lord. They doubtless felt inclined 
from the heart to make the appeal, Help, Lord ! for 
vain is the help of man. They were from experience 
convinced that deliverance must be wrought by a 
more powerful arm than their own. They had been 
overcome and were now oppressed by that very nation 
who had in the time of Moses been nearly extirpated. 
Their own efforts to release themselves were u«a- 
vailing: their refuge in the mountains was no security 
against evil; and troubles were thickening around 
them on every side. 

" They cried unto the Lord, and true to his pro- 
mise, their covenant-keeping God, though he had 
visited their iniquities with stripes, now proved that 
he had not utterly withdrawn his loving kindness, 
nor suffered his faithfulness to fail. 

" The situation of many a child of God has been 



129 

exactly similar to that of the chosen people to this 
time. The christian, after fierce conflicts, may ob- 
tain rest from iiis enemies round about, and thinking 
the victory won, he may at ease sit down, and ceasing 
to watch be led into and overcome by temptation. 

" In this whirlpool of trouble, where is his help .'' 
He has laid aside his armour, and if he flees for re- 
fuse to tlie stronjjest fortress his own wisdom can 
devise or his own strength erect, it will prove a weak 
defence. If he looks to himself he is straitened 
on every side. His only resource will be that of 
the oppressed Israelites, crying unto the Lord : 
Alas, that it should so often by experience be proved 
that this is the last resort ! 

" How frequently, at such times, will Egyptian 
darkness surround him ! Yea, the very heavens will 
seem as brass over his head. He cannot ' glance a 
thought half way to God.' Though pleading with 
a penitent heart for forgiveness of past sins, and for 
assistance to prevail against the warring and oppress- 
ing tribes within, he will feel that his doom is just 
if his plea is rejected. Still, he will supplicate, as 
did David, ' Hear me, O Lord ! when I cry with 
my voice; have mercy upon me and answer me. 
Hide not thy face from me ; put not away thy ser- 
vant in anger ; leave me not, neither forsake me, O 
God of my salvation.' 

" Happy would it be if the christian's experience 
of all this bitterness of soul should lead him to be 
wary, to obey the voice of the Lord, and diligently 
to follow the path of duty. Surely our hearts, like 
those of the Israelites, must be fully set in us to do 
evil, or we should continually delight to do the will 
F 2 



130 

fif God, countiiifT it our hijxhcst honour to bo found 
in his service, and verifying the truth that his com- 
niauchnents are not grievous, and that in keeping 
them tlicre is, even in this life, a great reward. 
"Jan. 30. 1831." 

Arduous as were the daily duties of Mrs. Taylor, 
she fflt that the sick and destitute had claims whicli 
could not be disregarded. When her own health 
was feeble, she would Hy to the chamber of disease 
and suffering, and spare no efforts in administering 
relief aiid consolation. An account of one of these 
visits is furnished in a letter to a friend. 

" On Thursday of last week, C — D — called, 
and, informing me of the extreme illness of her bro- 
ther, requested me to go immediately to see him. I 
found him, in a large room on a cot, in the most des- 
titute condition. A wife of nineteen, and his feeble 
sister, were the only persons j)resent. He said he 
knew that he was a sinner, and hoped God would 
show him mercy, but of the plan of salvation through 
a Redeemer he seemed to have little or no idea. 1 
urcTcd him to use his remaining strength in seeking 
mcrcv through Jesus Christ, by casting himself upon 
him for salvation. 

" On Friday, I invited several religious friends 
to call, but the poor invalid was so exhausted by being 
raised from his bed that he was unable to converse. 
They generously contributed to his temporal neces- 
sity, and left him. Towards evening I called again. 
An affecting scene was presented. He was in severe 
a<rony. His poor wife and sister were endeavouring 
to suppress their feelings, and, by every means in 



131 

their power, to afford him rehef. I assisted them 
untill I perceived he was fainting, and then enquired 
if there was no neighhour to wliom we could apply 
for help? No — all were strangers. I went across 
the street, and stated the case; but could not procure 
assistance ; all were busy. I returned to the bed 
side, and rendered all the service in my power. The 
paroxysm returned. I then succeeded in finding a 
person, who left all, and accompanied me. He in- 
stantly took the place of the worn-out females. Hasten- 
ing to the vicinity of my residence, I soon found an 
excellent man, (one of my patrons,) who consented 
to take care of him for the night. In the mean time 
medicines were administered which afforded temporary 
relief Early on Saturday morning I was requested 
to invite a clergyman to visit him. The poor sufferer 
was now comparatively easy in body, and expressed a 
desire to attend to his soul. 

" My Bible class teacher, Mr. Clark, seemed a 
proper person on whom to call. He did not hesi- 
tate, and was soon at the bedside of the dying man. 
Oh ! that I could give you a just conception of the 
intcrestini; solemn conversation that ensued. Mr. 
C. is a faithful minister, and an experienced one too. 
He drew forth all feelings of the heart, and then 
adapted his conversation to the case. Beginning 
with the first principles of religion, he explained why 
we need a Saviour, and how we may be interested in 
his death and atonement. Again and again did he 
iiold up Christ to him as our only !;ope and refuge, 
and showed the office of the blessed Spirit. lie 
concluded with a very appropriate prayer. His p.ous 
heart seemed raised to the mercy-seat. I could only 



132 

think of ' man in audience with the Deity.' He 
pleaded with an earnestness and fervour that almost 
carried witli it an assurance of being heard and 
answered. 

" After this the sick man called his wife to him, 
and urged her to make God her friend, and to look 
to Jesus for consolation. Before I left, he said, ' 1 
feel greatly relieved in my mind.' In the evening 
he was more comfortable, his mind evidently absorbed 
by the great truths that had been unfolded to his 
view, and before 7 o'clock on Sunday morning he 
was in eternity. 

" You recollect how stormy last Sunday was; yet, 
being well prepared for the weather, 1 went to Sun- 
day school, but was called from thence to visit the 
afflicted family, by the same gentleman who promptly 
complied with my request on Friday. He has proved 
himself a friend to them in their sufferings. I en- 
deavoured to direct their thoughts to the consolations 
of the Gospel, and cannot but hope that this painful 
visitation will be the mean of drawing them near to 
God." 

In addition to the particulars here recorded, I have 
the pleasure of introducing an extract of a letter from 
the Rev. Mr. Clark, written in reply to some inqui- 
ries I had made on the subject. 

" Philadelphia, Jan. 21, 1837. 

" Rev. and dear Sir, — You are aware, I suppose, 
that Miss Foote was not one of my parishioners. 
My acquaintance with her was comparatively slight. 
I recollect, however, being impressed with the idea 
that she was a young lady of very clear and vigorous 



133 

intellect, and of deep and ardent piety. She had a 
most benevolent heart, and felt that she ought to 
make personal efforts for the salvation of those around 
her. 

" I have a distinct remembrance of the visit to 
which you allude. It was on Saturday that she 
called and requested me to go and see a young man 
who was very ill. I had such engagements upon my 
hands that I felt strongly tempted to excuse myself. 
But her countenance at that moment assumed such 
an imploring aspect, and she spoke so feelingly of 
the ignorance and unpreparedness of the sick man to 
meet his Judge, that I felt constrained to throw aside 
all my other engagements, and accompany her quite 
to the other end of the city. I recollect very well 
that this interview was of such a character as to lead 
me to form the solemn determination, that whatever 
might be my engagements at any time, they should 
all give way when I was called to visit the sick. 

" I presume you have a record of the principal 
circumstances of this interview, and of the family of 
the young man. It was a scene which I can never 
forget. While I tried to direct the darkened and 
benighted sinner to Christ, Miss Foote, like an angel 
of mercy, stood near the bed, the tear occasionally 
stealing down her cheek, and her countenance plainly 
indicating that her heart was lifted up in earnest prayer 
that the instruction miffht not be lost. 

" As she has now gone to her rest, I am happy to 
learn that her friends intend to bless the world by 
recording what God wrought in her to the praise of 
his glory. 

" Your affectionate brother, John A. Clark." 



134 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Blessed result ot Faitlilul Labours — Review of her past Life — De- 
votional Exercises — Sickness and Deatl) of a Beloved Sister — 
Poetical tribute to her Memory — Visit to Middle Haddam — 
A Sister's Grave — lletnoval to Paterson — Favourable lirciim- 
stances attending the change — Words of Comfort to a Friend. 

Reference has already been made to an increase of 
seriousness among the scholars ot" Aliss Foote. The 
desire of her heart was realised. She was permitted 
to rejoice over several of them as the hopeful subjects 
of Divine grace. In alluding to what had transpired, 
she says, " It is the power of God's truth, made 
effectual by the operation of his Spirit." Nothing 
can be more gratifying to the faithful conscientious 
teacher than to see the blessing of the Lord crown- 
ing her exertions. She feels a new incentive to prayer, 
humility, and gratitude. 

It has been the privilege of the writer to converse 
with several who were pupils with Miss Foote at this 
period. They uniformly speak of her in the most 
grateful and affectionate manner. One of them re- 
marked — " I think it would be impossible for me to 
feel so strong an attacliment to any other person." 
Another observed, "thouiih I have not seen her for 
six years, I can never forget her. We all felt that 
she considered it a privilege to impart instruction ; 
and on no subject did she more powerfully touch the 
sensibilities of our hearts than when adverting to our 
religious obligations. She lived, prayed, and con- 
versed in view of the eternal world." 



13j 

Many recur to the season in which they were con- 
nected with her class as the commencement of their 
religious life. Three of them closed their eyes on 
the things of earth before their beloved teacher ; and 
now, I trust, are rejoicing with her in the blissful 
presence of God and the Lamb. Nearly all of those 
who survive regard her as having been the chief in- 
strument employed by God in conducting them from 
nature's darkness to the marvelous light of the ever- 
lasting Gospel. May a double portion of her spirit 
ever rest upon them. 

A private record, dated April 25, 1831, shows the 
low estimate she formed of her own attainments, and 
how little she saw in herself that could be acceptable 
to God. 

" I have this day been renewedly impressed with 
the sacredness of my obligations to live to God and 
to him alone. In view of all that rests upon me, I 
am constrained to cry, Who is sufficient for these 
things ? I feel most sensibly my utter helplessness, 
and my constant need of Divine grace to think a good 
thought or perform a good action. Two years have 
rolled away since I assumed the vows of the everlast- 
ing covenant. It is painful to think of the many 
changes that have transpired. But after a few more, 
if my name is written in the Lamb's book of life, I 
shall be removed to a building not made with hands, 
eternal in the heavens. 

" A review of the past two years convinces me 
that I ought to lie low before God. My unprofita- 
bleness in his service is truly humiliating; and yet 
})ride retains a place in my heart. Oh, ray unbelief, 
my blindness. Lord, thou knowest it all; enable 



136 

me as a poor helpless sinner to come to Christ, the 
Infinite Fountain, and receive that supply which he 
alone can give. 

" Almighty and everlasting God, I would yield 
myself entirely to thee ; thou hast a right to all. 
Elevate my affections and fix them upon thyself". 
Shouldst thou leave me to the counseling of my own 
heart, I should dishonour thee, and bring ruin upon 
ray soul. Help me to live to thy glory. Keep me 
from whatever is offensive in thy sight ; and let rae 
lean upon thy almighty arm. May 1 sit with hu- 
mility at the Saviour's feet ; and may the Holy 
Spirit cleanse me from all iniquity. Oh, ray Father, 
strengthen me for duty, lead rae in the path of holi- 
ness, and accept my imperfect services, for the Re- 
deemer's sake." 

" April 28. 

" I have great reason to mourn over my incon- 
sistency; — yet, if I know ray own heart, I desire to 
be kept from presumptuous sins, and from secret 
faults. How often do vain imaginations interrupt 
my seasons of retirement, and render my devotions 
unprofitable ! I clearly perceive that ray best perfor- 
mances are polluted with sin, and need the sanctifying 
influences of the Holy Spirit. If ever I join the 
circle of the redeemed in a brighter world, how won- 
derful the change ! May I cherish that living faith 
which purifies the heart and overcomes the world, 
which is the substance of things hoped for, and the 
evidence of things not seen." 

The last days of her beloved sister drew near, 
Jerusha had so far recovered from her first attack 
that early in the spring she came to New York with 



137 

the hope of joining Sarah in her schooL But the 
Lord in his providence had otlierwise ordered. Slie 
arrived an invaUd, and was scarcely able to leave her 
room during the few weeks that she remained here. 
These sisters were tenderly attached to each other, 
and nothing seemed awanting to perfect their union 
but evidence tliat the younger had chosen the Lord 
for her portion. iShe appreciated her sister's kind- 
ness and solicitude, sought an interest in her prayers, 
frankly confessing that her heart was alienated from 
God. 

Writing to Sarah, a few months previous, in reply 
to a former letter, she thus expresses herself: — 
" Your letter was perused with mingled feelings of 
pleasure and remorse ; pleasure at being remembered 
so affectionately by my ever kind sister, and remorse 
for having so long neglected advice, dictated by the 
purest of motives — a sincere desire for my future 
welfare, and the glory of that Being to whom you 
have dedicated yourself for time and for eternity. 

" Sincerely do I wish that your feelings were 
mine, that our hearts beat in unison, that we could 
participate in the same pleasures. I am indeed 
alone ; with no friend on earth to whom I can im- 
part those feelings, which all must have who like 
me have slighted the calls of mercy ; and no friend 
in heaven to whom I can go ; for I have neglected 
to secure that friendship which I now feel to be of 
infinitely more importance than the wealth of worlds. 
Pray for me, dear sister, that I may truly repent — 
come out from the world and embrace with faith that 
Saviour through whom alone my sins can be forgiven, 
and I be prepared for happiness beyond the grave." 



138 

Here was a case that enlisted all her sympathies. 
The afflicted friend was her sister. The disease was 
evidently gaining ground and must soon terminate 
her eartlily career. Who, with the feelings of a 
sister and a christian, could be unconcerned ? A 
few lines to one of her friends exj)ress her solicitude 
on the occasion. 

" You know tJiat I have a sister very ill, — in ail 
human probability on the confines of eternity, — you 
believe that the prayer of faith prevails with God. 
TJiink of the ' value of her priceless soul,' — think of 
her present situation, — and then draw near with bold- 
ness to that throne of grace to which we may have 
free access through a Mediator. May you find daily 
that your ' closet is indeed an awfully solemn place.' 
'There may you address the Father through the Son.' 
There may you indeed hold sweet communion with 
the Lord our God and draw down the blessings for 
which you plead." 

The Rev. Mr. Clark was rerjuested to visit Jerusha. 
He unfolded with his accustomed clearness and fidelity 
the way of salvation throutrli faith in a crucified Sa- 
viour, and the alarming consequences of withholding 
from the Lord the affections of the heart. He was 
listened to with every expression of interest. The 
patient sufferer felt that she could no longer persevere 
with impunity in the neglect of proffered mercy. 
She saw the futility of every false hope on which she 
had previously relied, and resolved to devote herself 
in earnest to the attainment of those things which 
belonged to her everlasting peace. Sarah spent with 
her many anxious days and sleepless nights, but those 
days were soon numbered, though not untill she had 



139 

returned to her paternal home and found peace and 
joy in believing. 

A letter to Miss S. presents before us the conclu- 
ding scene. It was written from Connecticut ; — 
iSarah having arrived there a short time before her 
sister's death. 

"Middle Iladdam, June 20tli, IH.31. 

"The conflict is over, my Catharine; — her spirit 
is disembodied ; — without a groan or struggle she 
left her weeping friends, and her load of sin and 
suffering, and entered, 1 trust, the presence, the 
blissful presence, of her Saviour. Have you ever 
seen a dear relative die ? It was a solemn, trying 
hour. Oh, for entire submission to the righteous 
dispensations of Jehovah ! She said to me last night, 
' Can you not resign me into the hands of my Savi- 
our, and feel happy in doing so ?' My bursting heart 
could not, without difficulty, make a reply. Previous 
to this, I had asked upon whom her thoughts chiefly 
rested ? She replied, * my Saviour.' How does he 
appear to you ? ' The one altogether lovely.' She 
then requested me to pray with her. Two young 

were present, and mamma, and sister H. I 

was overcome by the request, though I had longed 
to engage in this holy exercise with her once more ; 
after giving vent to my feelings in tears, I knelt by 
her side, and commended her spirit into the hands of 
her God and Saviour, She kissed me aood nijjht. 
Her last words to me this morning were, do pray for 
me once more, — pray with me, my sister. To the 
inquiry respecting the state of her mind, she said, 
'j^All is well. I place my trust in an all-sufficient 
Saviour,' 



140 

" Can it be, that I sliall ever again be unmindful 
of death, and forget that eternity is before me ! Will 
the Lord seal tiiis truth upon my hardened and re- 
bellious heart. Wherever I go, may I bear in mind 

the utter uncertainty of every thing below the skies. 

# * * * * 

" Our passage across the sound was delightful ; — 
as I looked upon the broad expanse of waters, brigten- 
cd by Luna's silver rays, and gazed upon the cloud- 
less sky, and then at the foaming wake, left by our 
boat, as the divided current met and passed away, 
how could I express my emotions ! Oh, C, it 
was a beautiful, a glorious scene. You would have 
admired, and to admiration you would have joined 
adoration. I mused and moralized — looked back to 
childhood's happy days, and then reviewed some 
latter periods. — Who could forget a beloved sister ; 
or refrain from asking. Shall I no more hear her 
cheerful voice — no more be welcomed by her to my 
iiome, after 2 long absence ? I cannot realize it. My 
mother and sisters were almost inconsolable. 

'* llemcrnbcr our afflicted circle, at the twilight 
hour, and oh, at your precious family altar, remem- 
ber who would rejoice to kneel with you once 
more. 

" Your own friend, Sarah." 

The following lines, written by Miss Foote, soon 
after the death of her sister, disclose the feelings by 
which she was supported on the mournful occasion. 

" Slie's gone ! nor sighs, nor tears, nor earnest prayer 
AvailM to save from the grim tyrant's power ! 
The heart that lately throbb'd so high with feeling, 



No longer hath pulsation, and the eyes 

Which beam'd with love so sweetly on us all, 

In death's deep slumber are for ever closed. 

Her body tenants now the grave — cold bed ! 

But Where's her nobler part— the deathless soul ? 

Is that confined to the dark prison-house? 

Can that which wastes the mortal there annoy 

The immortal too, with sense ot loathsomeness, 

Of foul corruption, and the crawling worm ? 

No, no, the king of terrors dares not claim 

The spirit as his prey! The body, frail. 

Enslaved to sin, and subject to disease 

And pain, and sure decay, is all his own. 

On that the worm may riot; o'er its bed 

The summer flower may sweetest fragrance breathe. 

Or the drear winter's storm may rudely sweep — 

It boots not to the quiet slumberer there. 

For Christ, death's mighty conqueror, hath burst 

The chains of bondage ! Risen from the grave, 

He hath become the first and glorious fruit 

Of all that sleep, sealing to faith the hope 

That they who sleep in him shall with him rise. 

To such, death has no sting, and the dark grave. 

Drear as it is, no victory can boast. 

O'er such, though we may weep, we sorrow not 

As those who see no hope beyond; — for oh ! 

'Tis consolation deep, to feel that, while 

* An angel's hand can't snatch her from the grave, 

• Legions of angels can't confine her there.' 
We may rejoice, too, in the blessed hope 
That, lier frail mortal now put off, she's clothed 
M'ith immortality, and that the song 

Of heaven's pure harps, of which the untiring theme 
Is Jesus' dying love and saving grace. 
Bursts from her lips, and swells her golden lyre. 
A few more evil days, a few more rounds 
Of weary years, and this declining sun 
Will shed bright beams upon our lowly bed. 
And warm to life the flowers that love shall plant 
To deck our graves. Then let us patient wait, 



H2 

IJiitill the time of our deliverance comes, 

And then, for ever reunited there, 

Wliere sickness, sorrow, sin, or fear of death, 

Or thought of separation never comes — 

We'll reign with Iier — we'll reign wiih all the host 

Of Christ's redeemed, and, ever at his feet 

Casting our blood-bought crowns, raise high the song — 

' VVOKTHV THE LaMB.' 

"June 21st, 1830." 

Though wonderfully sustained in the hour of con- 
flict, she returned to her duties with a heavy heart. 
One after another had been called away around 
whom her affections were entwined. Yet she was 
enabled to perceive, and acknowledge, that it was 
the Lord who had done it. These events led her 
to an anxious inquiry respectino- her future course. 
Her great desire was, to be in that sphere where 
she could most effectually subserve the interests of 
Christ's kingdom. She reflected much on the be- 
nighted condition of heathen nations ; — and was so- 
licitous to aid in extending the Gospel among them. 

On a particular occasion, she writes to her friend. 
" Dear C, we may yet be united in closer bonds, in 
a nobler cause, even on missionary ground. I feel 
a desire to live for God, to live so that my conduct 
and conversation shall have a direct tendency to ad- 
vance the cause of Emmanuel. May ray example 
be holy and consistent." 

Alluding to the same subject in another letter, she 
evinces the strong hold it had of her feelings. 

" At our teachers' raectinj; we suuij Heber's mis- 
sionary hymn. My ardent feelings rose so high, 
to enter into the glorious work, that I had to struggle 
with them. I can only banisii such thoughts by 



lis 

rcflectin<^ that I am now, in one sense, on missionary 
o-round. Do we fully realise the meaning ot" the 
words, ' Lord, I give myself to thee ?' 

"July 21, 18.31. 
" How easy it is to converse upon a subject, and 
imagine we are willing to do much, when we should 
shrink in the hour of trial. How can I duly feel 
the necessity of self-denial — prayer — and continual 
trust in an ever-present, ever-strengthening Saviour! 
When the millions of perishing heathen were pre- 
sented before me to-day, the language of my heart 
was — Lord, if an unworthy being like myself can 
do any thing to advance their spiritual welfare, make 
me willing, however great the sacrifice ; banish every 
sinful fear ; and let me count it my highest honour 
to devote all that has been left me, and for the use 
or abuse of which I am accountable, to thy service. 

"This morning, I was gazing upon the solar 
rays, and thinking how powerful they were, when 
scattered ; and yet converge them by means of a 
lens to a focus, and how quickly heat, and even fire, 
is elicited. So, when our affections are divided be- 
tween religion and the world, fixed steadily upon no 
object, our efforts will be fruitless ; but let Christ 
be the centre of attraction, and all our feelings and 
affections united in him, light will be diffused in our 
hearts, our souls will kindle with a holy ardour for 
the promotion of his glory. I desire to love God 
supremely — to exercise childlike confidence in him — 
to call him Father, and to feel so submissive to his 
Avill, that, under the most afflictive dispensations, yes, 
in gloom, darkness, and distress, 1 may believe and 
implicitly trust." 



144 

With the feeUngs just described, she closed her 
school about tlic middle of August, to enffafTC in a 
similar employment with her friend in Paterson. 
This was a severe strufj^le to her affectionate heart. 
She loved her scholars, and they were ardently 
attached to her. The blessing of Heaven had rest- 
ed on her exertions. But the labours of the school 
had become too exhaustinir for her strength. She 
anticipated decided advantages from the country air, 
and a division of responsibility. 

The following letter v/as written after she had 
taken leave of the ' lovely group.' 

"Middle Iladdain, Aug. 19, 1831. 
" My dear Catharine, — I have been home only a 
few hours. * * My first steps led me to Jerusha's 
grave. Oh ! what unbroken silence reigns around 
her narrow resting place. I was alone, and my pre- 
viously suppressed feelings now had vent. The sen- 
tences repeated by tlic Rev. Mr. Jarvis, as we, in 
sad procession, walked the narrow path through the 
yard to her grave, sounded loudly in my ears. ' I 
am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord ; he 
that bclieveth in me, though he were dead, yet shall 
he live ; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me 
shall never die,' &c. The turf, which was so care- 
lessly laid over her, is ' withered and sear,' — but, no 
doubt, spring will see it green and bright — an em- 
blem faint of the coming season, when she, and all 
who are prisoned in the grave's dark confines, shall 
put on immortality and incorruption.' 

" Wednesday, a.7n. Aug. 24, 
" O dear C, — Why have you not despatched a 



145 

letter for me. Only think how long since I have heard 
Irom you. Though so many things arc around me 
to occupy my mind, and so many friends to share 
my attention, you arc tliere^ and are here. I had 
hardly received a welcome, before I found myself 
saying, if C. was only here, all my enjoyment would 
be more than doubled. When I climb yonder hill, 
and gaze upon the extensive prospect from its summit, 
I want you at my side to help me to admire. When 
I see the 'powerful king of day' first manifest the 
signs of his appearing, and 'rejoicing in the east;' 
or when, at day's decline, I beheld him sinking 
silently beneath the western horizon, and shedding 
forth his milder frlorics over this rich and varied land- 
scape — then I want you with me to contemplate ; — 
and as the twilight hour arrives, to praise in heart- 
felt melody, and to adore the Author of all; — all — 
that we have now to enjoy, and all that we expect to 
realize, when ' hope is changed to glad fruition, faith 
to sight, and prayer to praise' 

" Sometimes I look out of my window at evening, 
when the stillness is unbroken, save by the murmur- 
incr of the ffentle stream that borders our jxarden ; — 
and oh ! the cloudless sky, and the bright moon, and 
the towering, drooping elm tree, which dear Jerusha, 
so much admired ! A view like this is enough to 
drive away sleep — even from such a drowsy mortal 
as your friend. It is enough to raise one's thoughts 
to that bright world, where dwells Infinite Purity — 
where worship the heavenly hosts. 

" W^ould not a habitual contemplation of the ho- 
liness of God have a decidedly practical and deep in- 
fluence upon our whole character ? Our own vile- 



146 

ncss in his sight, the aggravated nature of our re- 
peated otfcnces, our inability of ourselves to think a 
good thought or perform a good action, our entire 
doptMidcnce upon Christ for pardon and acceptance, 
and his j)reciousness as our only mediator and right- 
eousness, are some of the abiding views we might 
thus obtain. Would they not lead us scrupulously 
and perseveringly ' to avoid every appearance of 
evil ;' and to hunger and thirst after that which will 
assimilate us to the character of Him whom not hav- 
ing seen we desire to love ? We profess to be 
christians; why are we so groveling? Why do we 
so seldom look with the eye of faith, to things un- 
seen and eternal ? 

•' Remember to pray for her who soon hopes to 
he one with you in your present employment ; and, 
oh, glorious prospect ! to be united with you in a 
better state of existence. 

" Ever your Sarah." 

" New York, Sept. 

" Is it not true that christians every where live 
far, very far below their precious privileges ? Why- 
is it, that those, who have enjoyed svveet intercourse 
with the Father of their spirits, ever suffer their 
thoughts and affections to be so engrossed with earth- 
ly thinp^s as almost to exclude the Saviour from their 
hearts ? 

"In going to church this morning, I thought 
with pleasure of the time, now near, when we shall 
take sweet counsel together and walk to the house of 
God in company. The Lord has been better to me 
than all my fears. May I never forget to praise him 



147 

for his unmerited kindness. Let us pray more and 
more, that he may be glorified in us and by us. 

" In haste, your affectionate Sarah." 

The prccedinfT letter was probably the last she 
wrote before removing to New Jersey. In her new 
situation, she found much that contributed to her 
comfort, and diminished her care. To human ap- 
pearance, she seemed likely to enjoy as great a de- 
gree of happiness as is usually alloted to the chris- 
tian on this side of the grave. 

Several extracts from her letters while at Paterson 
will acquaint the reader with the most interesting 
circumstances connected with her residence there. 

" Paterson, Sept. 26, 18.31. 
" Have we not, in the case of your brother, an 
illustration of the truth — * Man sees not through the 
thin partition of an hour ?' I can form some idea of 
your feelings as you watch by his bedside — away 
from those parental friends, whose tender kindness 
can never be supplied, even by the most assiduous 
attentio:i from strangers. I can imagine too the 
anguish of your spirit, should your fears concerning 
him be realized. What an unfailintj refuixc is our 
God ! How sure arc his promises ! Whether in 
j)rosperity, or bowed down with adversity, that person 
is blessed who can leave all in the hands of that 
Being who is 'too good to be unkind, too wise to 
err.' May this consolation be yours. And should 
you be called to resign your brother, may you be 
enabled to see the hand of an all-wise and merciful 
Parent, who ' doth not willingly afflict or grieve.' 



148 

Aii(], liowevcr mysterious his dealings appear, may 
you. be submissive, and believe that though clouds 
;i:id darkness are round about him, yet righteousness 
and judgment are the habitation of his throne. May 
vou rejoice that the Lord reigns, and dwell with con- 
fidence on the thought that he will do ri'dit. 

" With regard to my own concerns, blessings 
flow to mc in one continued stream. My home is 
delightful, — its inmates are a happy little group. 
Here we sit ' under our own vine,' none molesting 
or making us afraid. 

" Believe me, as I am in sincerity, your true 
friend, S.^RAH." 



CHAPTER IX. 

Sanrtifipcl Afflictionfi — Reward of Ardour in the performance of 
Duty — Death regarded as Near — Cheerful Acquiescence in the 
Divine Will-- Increase of Strength — Return to the City — Grati- 
tude for Past Mercies — Winter spent in Retirement — Prepara- 
tion for new Duties — High estitnate of Missionary Services. 

She, who was ever prompt in administering conso- 
lation to others, soon needed it herself. The next 
letter before me affords no doubtful evidence that 
her health was impaired, and that without the most 
watchful caiPe, her prospect of usefulness would be 
blasted, and her labours on earth terminated. It 
is gratifying, however, to perceive, that her spiritual 
energies did not slumber, that she sought the Lord 
for luT refuge and could calmly repose on his ever- 
lastin<: arm. 



M.9 

"Paterson, Oct. 3, 1831. 

" Detained from the sanctuary yesterday, by in- 
disposition, and prevented from uniting with the 
friends of Christ in commemorating his dying love, 
I was still privileged in the retirement of my own room, 
to plead tl)at he who is the master of assemblies, 
would condescend to gladden me with his presence, 
— to warm my heart, and enliven my languid feel- 
ings ; by granting me new supplies of that grace, 
without which I have only a name to live while spiri- 
tually dead. 

" The past week was to me, on many accounts, 
one of peculiar interest. Though I feel myself in a 
land of strangers, yet the hope of enjoying christian 
communion in a holy ordinance gave me pleasure. 
I looked forward with earnest expectation to the 
Lord's day, as a season of refreshing from on high. 

" I endeavoured to examine myself, and, superfi- 
cially as the duty was performed, it led me to see 
something of my blindness and guilt. I sought to 
commune with my heart in the watches of the night, 
and asked myself, what progress am I making in the 
way of holiness? Am I in reality doing any thing 
in the cause of Him to whom I have publicly con- 
secrated all the powers of my soul ? Can I make 
the words of the Psalmist the language of my heart : 
' Whom have I in heaven but thee ? and there is 
none upon earth that I desire besides thee'? 

" 1 had a clearer perception than usual of the at- 
tainments required of the christian, and of the 
course proper to be pursued; though I saw much to 
lament in my neglect, or lifeless performance of 
duty, and in my want of an adequate sense of the 
aggravation of my guilt. 



150 

" Do wc, I would appeal to your own conscience, 
walk worthy of" our Iiij^h vocation .'' Do we not of- 
ten tiifle with our obligations, by living too much 
as thouf'h we had no duties to perform for ourselves, 
our associates, and a world lying in wickcdnc-^ .'' 
Why is it so.? We know that the course of the 
christian is onward, that he should continually aim 
at an entire conformity to the standard of the Gospel. 
These remarks are made from ' the abundance of the 
heart ; would tliat I could say a ' broken and a con- 
trite heart.' 

" While I believe that we ought to ' forget the 
thinfTs that are behind,' and that reviews of the past 
can only profit, as they serve to humble us, I would 
ask, shall wc not, sensible as we must be of our per- 
fect weakness, set out anew in the stren,th of Christ; 
and with the ])encfit of past experience resolve to be 
more watchful, and to demean ourselves in all re- 
spects, as the children of God ? 

" Thougli my her.lth is far from good, yet I have 
so many unmerited comforts, and such freedom from 
the labours and cares, which have hitherto rested 
with their full weight upon me alone, that I have 
cause daily to offer praise and thanksgiving. That 
God may be glorficd in us, and by us, shall ever be 
the heart-felt prayer of 

"Sarah." 

The christian never enjoys sweeter consolation 
than when enabled, by the grace of God, to regard 
the dearest objects of earth in subserviency to the 
Divine will. It is, as experience abundantly testifies, 
no small attainment, to love strongly without idol- 



1j1 

izing. Earthly attachments, where tlie honrt is pe- 
culiarly susceptible ot" the tender emotions, are ever 
liahle to withdraw individuals from that single reli- 
ance upon God so essential to advancement in the 
divine lite. Miss Foote often expresses an appre- 
hension lest her affection for her intimate friends, 
though sanctified by religious feeling and principle, 
should keep her from the everlasting fountain of 
truth and holiness. 

Her intercourse with the friend with whom she 
was now associated was mutually delightful ; yet 
she says, " Perhaps I am in danger of a species of 
idolatry. I frequently think, that such enjoyment as 
is now granted us cannot be of lon<j continuance. 
But I would have my regard for her, and all who are 
dear to me, controled by that Spirit under whose 
dominion it is my prayer, that all our feelings may 
be brought." 

A further extract from one of her letters unfolds 
the state of mind with which she engaged in her 
duties, and the deep sense she cherished of her re- 
sponsibility. 

"Patersoii, Oct. 10, 1831. 

" Does it rain incessantly in the great city ? It 
has poured down here for more than two days. But 
though it is so dreary and comfortless without, all 
within is bright and cheerful. We are indeed a fa- 
voured little family, and this has been a peculiarly 
pleasant day with us. We rose early, and, before 
our minds were filled with care, or engrossed by 
other objects, cast ourselves upon Him (who has 
said, if any lack wisdom, let them ask of God,) for 
grace and strength to engage in duty with new vigour 



152 

aiul more faithfulness. Every task has been easy, 
and every duty pleasant. 

" Have you ever thought of the great responsi- 
bility restiiii,' upon me, of the number who are daily 
looking to me for instruction, and who wil! be influ- 
enced by my example, and receive from me abiding 
impressions ? Have you, in connexion with this, 
remembered my inexperience — my liability to be 
influenced by momentary feeling, rather than by per- 
manent and holy principles? Then you have prayed 
that I may be supported, and made an instrument of 
great good. If I realized, in its true light, the con- 
nexion between my present labours, and eternal reali- 
ties, how could I endure the responsibility?" 

It is always trying to relinquish scenes where 
we had fondly hoped to enjoy much happiness. Miss 
Foote had anticipated great satisfaction from ming- 
ling in the circle with which she was now connected. 
A portion of her former scholars had accomj)anie I 
her; and her prospects at the commencement tully 
equalled her anticipations. The situation was com- 
paratively retire ', and her time seemed more at her 
own command. Her plan's were formed, with re- 
ference to the judgment of the great day ; and every 
tiling arranged in that manner, which would keep 
her heart most effectually alive to divine truth. 

Her seasons for retirement and devotional exer- 
cises were inestimably precious. They raised her 
affections to the Lord, and wonderfully strengthened 
her for the duties of the day. But she almost for- 
got, that the ardour of iier soul and the amount of her 
labours might exhaust her physical energies, and 
shorten that life which she was so anxious to devote 
to the glory of God. 



153 

She continued in her school untill wholly unable 
any longer to perform its duties. Though accus- 
tomed to watch and sympathise with others, when 
they were deprived oF healtli, she was extremely 
solicitous to avoid ffivintj trouble to her friends, and 

DO 

only consented to receive their attentions and kind 
offices when they became indispensable. 

A short notice of the state of her mind during her 
sickness has been kindly furnished by her friend 
and associate, from a record made at the time. 

"Oct. 18, My dear Sarah's health is seriously 
impaired. I fear she is not long for this world. She 
seems to be fost ripening for the paradise of God." 

" Oct. 20. Watching with dear S. last night. We 
had much sweet and solemn conversation. She re- 
marked that, behoving the time of her departure 
near, she v,'ished to leave a message for some of those 
friends in whom she had taken a special interest. 

" To several young ladies, who were engaged 
under her direction, in raising by the avails of their 
needle-work a small sum to educate a young man 
for the ministry, she expressed the hope, that they 
would not neglect the object in view; for there would 
be no actions of their lives to which they could look 
back from a bed of sickness with any satisfaction 
except sucii as had for their end the glory of God 
and the o-ood of souls. She trusted that this would 

O 

be their motive — adding, * There is nothing else 
worth living for.' 

" To my class in the Sunday school, she desired 
me to say, 'that Sunday school instructions, if mis- 
improved, would stand in dreadful array against them 
at the bar of God.' 

G 2 



" With reference to death, which she considered 
near, she said she had been endeavouring all day to 
set her house in order. \\ hen she first contempla- 
ted it, as at hand, she felt a reluctance to die; but 
now, she could look forward to it as a sweet release 
from the bondage of sin, and an admission to eternal 
glory. ' How delightful,' she said, ' to think of that 
progression in knowledge and holiness which the 
saint in heaven is permitted to make. This contem- 
plation at times fills my soul w-ith joy unutterable.'" 

She revived from this severe attack, and not long 
after wrote a few lines to a friend. 

"Oct. 1831 
" Recently I have thought that my continuance 
here would be very short. Though the ties which 
bind me to earth are strong, yet my great desire is 
to cast myself unreservedly upon Him 'who is able 
and willing to keep the trust committed to him untill 
the last great day.' When I think of death and the 
grave, the glories of the unseen world are at times 
so presented to the eye of faith as to exclude all the 
terrors of the 'dark valley.' Since the commence- 
ment of my ill health, 1 have prayed for entire sub- 
njission to the will of my heavenly Father, and rather 
desired, that this light affliction might be sanctified 
than removed. 

" During a season of peculiar agony, I found it in 
n)y heart to say, ' Father, if it be possible, let this 
cup pass from me, but 1 trust I added with equal 
sincerity, 'not my will but thine be done.' Will you 
not pray that the life (iod sees fit to prolong, and the 
liealth he seems willing to restore, may be devoted 



155 

to his honour and glory? My life liithcrto has been 
full of mercies. I have been almost a stran<fer to 
afflictive dispensations. Should the Lord order that 
the remainder of my pilgrimage be attended with 
trials and sufferings ; if they only work out for me a 
far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. I 
shall ever have reason to regard them as blessings. 

" Of one thing 1 am sure, if kindness and atten- 
tion will make me well, I shall soon be in perfect 
health. My dear scholars are continually sending 
rae tokens of remembrance. How mercifully all my 
wants are supplied. May my heart ever be filled 
with gratitude." 

Though all apprehension of immediate danger 
was removed. Miss Foote was unable to resume her 
duties. Her physician expressed the opinion, that 
it would be imprudent for her to engage in teaching 
during the winter. This advice, with the approba- 
tion of her friends, induced her in November to re- 
turn to New York. She was less fatigued by the 
journey than might reasonably have been expected 
Her eldest sister, Mary, had taken charge of the 
school in the city which she left, when she went to 
Paterson. The two sisters now became inmates in 
the same family. The elder felt it a privilege as well 
as duty, to promote the comfort of the younger. 
They passed the winter very pleasantly together. 

To persons of active habits, who delight in exert- 
ing themselves for the benefit of others, it is no small 
trial to be confined to the house, and apparently ex- 
cluded from the most important spheres of benevo- 
lent action. But when thev can realize, that it is an 



allotment of tlicir heavenly Father, designed to aid 
them in living ahove the world, and preparing tor an 
eternal state of existence, they submit, without repin- 
ing, and feel a comforting assurance, that the Lord 
will do all thinjrs riglit. 

On the 30th of November, Miss Foote wrote 
from New York, to her sister H., at Middle Had- 
dam, giving expression to the grateful emotions of 
her heart, lor the numerous kind offices she had re- 
ceived IVom her friends. She spoke in an affecting 
maimer of the merciful (joodness of the Lord. He 
had drawn near to her in the hours of suffering, and 
enabled her to stay her affections upon him. 

" I often think that no person on earth was ever 
provided for so comfortably. My friends spared no 
sacrifices. I have been very ill, and in daily ex- 
pectation of making an exchange of worlds; yet in 
the mitist of great bodily distress, I had no inclina- 
tion to murmur. God appearetl merciful in all his 
ways ; and my communion with him was sweet. 

" I wanted to sec you all once more. Every other 
wish of my heart seemed to be gratified. I am now 
much better, but very weak. If 1 could comfortably 
cross the Sound, you would quickly see me. But 1 
fear the consequences of the eastern air at this sea- 
son. Has the snow covered Jerusha's grave ? And 
do you go there as often as ever? It was my de- 
sire to be laid by her side ; to rest among my own 
kindred, and to mingle with my native dust. But I 
did not expect it, and considering my distance from 
you, could not wish it ; though, when I recurred to 
my Iriends, the thought was a pleasant one. 

"Your ever- affectionate sister, Sarah." 



20T 

Miss Footc comnicnceil the year 1832, feeling 
deeply conscious ot" the uncertainty that attended all 
her earthly prospects. The last year she had closed 
the eyes of a beloved sister in deatli ; for a consider- 
able time she seemed herself at the point to die 
How could she think of forming plans for the future ? 
Unable to go to the sanctuary, and mingle her voice 
in its hallowed services, she directed her thoughts 
to that house of God, not made with hands, eternal 
in the heavens; and to the ennobling employment 
of those who magnify the riches of redeeming grace, 
singing the song of Moses and the Lamb. 

In the seclusion of her apartment her affections 
rose to God, she dwelt on his infinite and exalted 
perfections, and retraced his dealings with her 
through the short span of her pilgrimage. By these 
reviews and meditations her faith was strengthened. 
This period seemed to be a season of quiet and re- 
pose, mercifully alloted her to prepare for the new 
duties on which she was to enter. A few lines 
written to her friend may convey some idea of the 
general state of her mind. 

"Jan. 22, p.m. 

" All alone, dear C, in my room. Were you 
here we might once more enjoy a season similar to 
those we frequently knew when permitted, in union 
of heart and desire, to make our requests known un- 
to Him who has said, 'Ask what ye will, in my 
name, and it shall be given you.' Are you still de- 
sponding? We do, dear C, deserve judgments, — 
but in reviewing the past, how manifold have been 
our mercies ! With reference to the future, oh, let 



158 

us plead still more earnestly to be enabled to leave 
it all with God, and meekly bow to his holy will. 
Who, that has known the privilege of seeking direc- 
tion, and gaining all needful supplies from a heavenly 
Parent, can ever think of resorting to other sources ? 

" I desire to love God supremely, to have every 
idol in my heart dethroned, and to live a life of faith 
in the Son of God. Why this intrusion of worldly 
thoughts, this regard for the opinions and remarks of 
others ? May I but know ' my God is mine,' and, 
with that confidence, which every christian is at all 
times privileged to exercise, say, Abba, Father ; 
what more can 1 desire ? Neither the smiles nor 
the frowns of the world would then interrupt ray en- 
joyment. 

" While I was reflecting upon this subject, yes- 
terday, the course of Mrs. Judson rose in my re- 
collection. What an example she set of disregard 
to self! What an ascendancy she gained over the 
flesh, with its affections and lusts ! We may pur- 
sue a similar course, and through faith in Christ 
obtain a victory over our besetting sins : but we 
must be watchful, constant in prayer, active in duty, 
— in a word, self-denying. 

" Ever your affectionate and interested friend, 

" Sarah L ." 

Our next intelligence from her gives additional 
evidence of returning strength, and a heart profitably 
affected by the sufferings she had experienced. 

" Feb. 19, lS3i. 
" My dear Sister, — You will rejoice at the improve- 



159 

ment of my health. Yesterday I went out of doors 
for the first time this winter, and walked a short dis- 
tance. I still find great difficulty in going up stairs ; 
and begin to be somewhat sensible, how extremely 
ill I have been ; and how thankful I ought to be 
for restoring mercies. If it is true that afflictions 
have a most powerful effect upon the heart, how ear- 
nestly should those ' who are exercised thereby ' pray 
that they may be sanctified. 

"The greater part of the time, during my sick- 
ness, I felt resigned to the will of God, and willing 
to die. My mind went forward to future days; and 
I asked myself, shall I probably ever have less to 
bind me to the world ; fewer ties to be sundered ; or 
be more willing to enter upon another state of exis- 
tence ? But one answer was returned to all these 
inquiries, and yet, at times, I had a desire to live. 
Why was it? I well knew that there is no substan- 
tial good here, — and that to depart, and be with 
Christ, is far, far better. I trusted that the world 
would never again hold that place in my affections 
which it had hitherto occupied. Very soon experi- 
ence proved, that I knew not 'what manner of spirit 
I was of.' I saw that my heart still enthroned idols, 
and that my soul was cleaving to the dust. 

" Pray for me, that I may be preserved from an 
undue attachment to any of the objects of time, and 
live habitually in view of that day, when Jesus shall 
appear, to judge the quick and the dead. 

"• Your affectionate sister, Sauah Louisa." 

Who can fail to see the need of constant watch- 
fulness and increasing prayer, lest the affections be 
withdrawn from the Lord, and placed upon inferior 



1()0 

objects ? After the christian has enjoyed great fre- 
dom of access to the throne of grace, and seemed to 
live on heavenly food, how often is he constrained 
to acknowledge, that his enjoyment is diminished, 
and in some instances his peace destroyed, by lean- 
ing too much on an earthly arm ! Though he knows 
in whom he has trusted, and where his irreat strenjith 
lies, how often does a deceitful heart turn him aside, 
and render him unfruitful in the vineyard of the Lord ! 
When placed on the dubious confines of two worlds, 
' suspended almost in mid air,' uncertain whether he 
shall be let down to earth, or raised up to heaven, 
how great appears the contrast between the vanities 
of the former, and the glories of the latter ! He 
thinks that it cannot be possible he shall ever forget 
the glowing views which fill the prospect before him ; 
or that, he can live, should his days be prolonged, 
without unceasingly meditating on that rest reserved 
for the people of God. Would that his subsequent 
experience always verified these convictions ; that, on 
recovering from a dangerous illness, his vows were 
faithfully performed. 

The only remedy against the world's ensnaring 
power is found in the grace of the Gospel. To this 
the subject of our memoir resorted; and she could 
truly testify that she was never sent empty away. 
She had many trials, but the Lord was with her, and 
conducted her by a way she had not anticipated, to 
her journey's end. 

In tracing her onward path, few materials are fur- 
nished by her own pen ; yet sufficient, it is hoped, to 
testify of the grace by which she was sustained, and 
the sanctifying power and comforting influence of 
the Holy Ghost. 



IGl 

" Fl-I). 22, 18.32. 

*' Is there a heaven, dear Catharine? And is it 
true that, if once admitted there, we shall not only 
participate in joys of which we cannot now fully con- 
ceive ; but that we shall be for ever free from every 
approach of sin — that we shall be holy? Can this 
be true, and we still cling to life — with the continu- 
ance of its strutrffles and its conflicts .'' 

" We live in a period whcMi all christians, even 
those of the weakest capacity, and the most limited 
influence, may do something, yes very much, for the 
cause of God, and the salvation of perishing souls. 
We have become so accustomed to the great truths, 
which are continually reiterated in our hearing, that 
we do not suitably reflect upon them. 

" Have you read the recent letters from Robert- 
son, Hill, and King, in Greece, and from Brewer in 
Turkey ? When perusing such accounts, unless I 
am greatly deceived, I feel that it would be the no- 
blest privilege that can be enjoyed on earth to engage, 
like those devoted servants of God, in teaching the 
ignorant and benighted. In comparison with their 
situation, cheerless as it is in many respects, and self- 
denying as they must live, what has earth to offer? 
I know of no employment so desirable as that ot a 
faithful missionary of the humble Jesus. 

" Lately, I have heard much said against the 
ostentatious expressions of some who were candidates 
for this nol)le work, but ignorant, in a great degree, 
of its nature, and of the duties and dispositions it 
requires. It does not become those who are pre- 
paring for the field, to speak as if they had already 
won its laurels. The loudest in profession are often 



162 

the feeblest in action. You will understand my 
meaning. I love to see the manifestation of a mis- 
sionary spirit, but I think this may be done practi- 
cally in our families. Surely to think much of those 
far distant, not too far, however, (if the case be pos- 
sible,) to be assisted by our charities, or strengthened 
by our prayers, has a tendency to overcome our sel- 
fish feelings, and to enlist those sympathies, the 
exercise of which is beneficial to ourselves as well 
as others. 

'• Believe mc, now, as ever, your affectionate 

" Sarah." 



CHAPTER X. 

Marriage — Solicitude for Divine Guidance — Cliolera — Death of 
Mrs. Tiilotson — Adopted Daughter — Family of the Christian 
— Vicissitudes d' Life — Commeiicemenr of the Author's ac- 
quaintance with Mrs. Taylor. 

The reference, in the preceding letter, to what 
may be done in families for the promotion of the 
missionary enterprise, will remind the reader that 
the thoughts of Miss Foote were directed to the 
duties of those who preside over the domestic circle, 
and produce a willingness to accompany her in the 
new relation upon which slie was preparing to enter. 

On the 7th of April, she was married to Mr. John 
S. Taylor, of this city, and on the first of May com- 
menced house-keeping. 

From the conscientious manner in whicli she had 
hitherto performed all her duties, we naturally expect 



163 

that lier future course will rcHect credit on any station 
she may fill. She had hcen in the school of afflic- 
tion, and evidently taught of God. Her principles 
of action were fixed on a basis too firm to be shaken. 
She had no desire but to live for the Divine glory. 
Alluding to the contemplated change in her condi- 
tion, several months before it took place, she said, 
" I fear not temporal evils, — my prayer to God is, 
give us thy blessing, which maketh rich and addeth 
no sorrow. If we are numbered among those who 
walk not after the flesh but after the Spirit, all will 
be well." 

She could not assume her new responsibilities 
without devout supplication, that she might at all 
times rely upon an everlasting arm. Fully con- 
scious of her entire dependence, she earnestly en- 
deavoured to live, each day, in view of the awful cir- 
cumstances attending her final account. Ker recent 
sickness, and present occasional suffering, taught 
her that she could not anticipate a long residence on 
earth ; that she must be dilligent while the day lasted, 
for soon the sun of her pilgrimage would go down. 
Writing to her sister, she refers to the time of her 
union, and glances forward to the period when that 
and all other earthly relations would cease. 

" I hope I may never forget the solemnities of 
that hour. It is not a light thing to take such vows 
and obligations upon oneself. 

" My health is in every respect improving, though 
I am very far from being well, and am confident that 
a slight thing would lay me again upon a bed of sick- 
ness. 

" I am in the hands of a kind and ever-watchful 



16t 

Parent, and desire to be resigned to whatever lie 
shall choose for me. Do you not think it strange 
that we ever shrink from death, the necessary pre- 
lude to eternal blessedness? If that blessedness 
consists in being admitted into the presence of God 
and the Lamb, should we not rejoice in view of it, 
and welcome the hour which gives us a passport 
thither?" 

In July, she luul the satisfaction of a<:ain visiting 

J ■* Oft 

her parental home ; a privilege which, for a long 
time, she never expected to enjoy. Her song was 
still of mercy. She recounted to her relatives the 
conflicts through which the Lord had carried her ; 
dwelling with especial interest on the consolations of 
his grace. Her close view of the eternal world had 
changed the aspect of surrounding objects. She felt 
that she was indeed a pilgrim upon earth, and that, 
whether her days here were few or many they should 
all be given to the Lord. 

In this belcved domestic circle, time passed plea- 
santly away ; she was cheered, refreshed, and strength- 
ened; and would have prolonged her stay but for a 
providential dispensation, which awakened painful 
sohcitude through the length and breadth of our land. 
The cholera was already making its ravages in New 
York. A large number had fallen victims, and no 
human foresight could predict when its work would 
be completed. The desire to spend the summer with 
her connections would be increased, on account of 
the danger attending a return to the city. But 
there were other feelings more powerful, which in- 
fluenced her determination. Circumstances rendered 
it necessary for her husband to remain in New York. 



165 

Knowing the danger to which he would be exposed, 
she thought not of her own heahh or comfort ; but 
made arrangements for an immediate return. " As 
the boat drew near the city," she says, "instead of 
tlie usual bustle and din of business, a scene of deso- 
lation was presented, the wharves and streets seemed 
to be deserted. It made my heart sicken, untill I 
reached home, and found all as when I left them. 
I then felt calm again, and have suffered far less from 
anxiety than I did in Middle Haddam. 

" You will perceive, from the papers, that the 
disease is advancing rapidly in every quarter. On 
Friday there were 311 new cases reported, and lOi 
deaths. Never was there such a time known here. 
May the great Ruler and Disposer of events, in 
mercy grant that this season of severe visitation be 
shortened, the sword of the destroying angel stayed, 
and health restored to our afflicted country." 

Many will long remember the suffering produced 
by this afflictive visitation. He must be a stranger 
to the sorrows of the destitute and the orphan, who 
has not often heard the affecting statement ; " My 
mother died of the cholera." Mrs. Taylor was mer- 
cifully preserved,. But before the disease had ceased 
its ravages, it became her painful duty to watch by 
the dying bed of a long-tried friend and relative. 
Her stronir attachment to Mr. and Mrs. Tillotson 
has already been mentioned.* Her grief at the 
death of Mr. T. was like that of a child at the loss 
of a beloved parent. Mrs. T. assumed the olaliga- 
tions of the christian covenant on the same day with 
herself. They were much together, and each 
• See page 21. 



166 

cherished for the other a warm and affectionate rc- 
<rard. The vount;cr child of Mrs. Tillotson hore 
the name of her cousin, Sarah L. Both mother 
and child were attacked hy this fatal disease about 
the same time, and for several days seemed equally 
on the borders of the eternal world. The child 
survived, while the spirit of the mother returned to 
God, who gave it. Mrs. T., in writing to Middle 
Haddam, thus alludes to the mournful event. 

" Sept. 10, 1832. 

" My dear Friends, — Be not surprised at the unex- 
pected appearance of this ? We are both well to-day 
— but, to-morrow we may be in our graves. Our 
dear cousin Mary is reunited to her long-mourned 
husband ; and her children arc orphans indeed. She 
spent an afternoon with me a few days since, and took 
Sarah with her. Ilcr health had not been so good 
for montbs. On Thursday she was taken sick, and 
Saturday afternoon breathed her last. Sarah lay on 
the same bed, apparently dying. I cannot describe 
their appearance or sufferings. I have heard of dis- 
tressing scenes that made my heart ache ; but my own 
eyes have seen more than 1 can tell you. May the 
Lord help us to cast ourselves upon him, and to live 
in a constant preparation for our great change. 

" You may depend upon hearing again soon from 
your affectionate Sarah. 

It devolved upon Mrs. Taylor to close the eyes of 
her cousin in death, to receive her last message, and 
to be entrusted with the care of the dear child who 
hore her name. On the Hth day of Sept., the ten- 



167 

der orphan, then about four years and a half old, was 
received at lier new liomc, and admitted to all the 
privileges of a daughter. Mrs. Y. was ardently 
attached to her, and omitted no efforts to train her 
up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. The 
little child seemed to her as a connecting link be- 
tween the living and the dead. In a letter, bearing 
date the 6th of December, she remarks, " When I 
look at Sarah I feel that she is one of the stronfrest 
ties which bind me on earth. Besides my love for 
her I have a kind of unaccountable fcelinir, mingled 
with the remembrance of her departed parents. May 
she be the Lord's for ever." 

Mrs. Taylor habitually realized the importance of 
presenting such an example before the members of 
her family as to recommend the religion of Jesus. 
She knew its transforming power and heavenly con- 
solation, and was desirous that others also should be 
enabled to testify, from heart-felt experience, that the 
Lord was good and gracious, that his loving kindness 
was extended to all the works of his hands. She 
delighted to contemplate the family of the christian 
on earth as an emblem, faint indeed, of the f^imily of 
the redeemed in heaven. Unless the lineaments of 
the Saviour's character were impressed on the soul, 
she was persuaded there could be uo permanent 
substantial enjoyment. 

All with whom she was associated were borne on 
her heart when she bowed before the Lord in sup- 
plication. Often would she return from her private 
devotions, deeply penetrated with the consciousness 
of the presence of Him whom mortal eye hath never 
seen. She knew what it was to be alone with her 



168 

God, and derived fVora this hallowed intercourse 
strength to perform tlie duties of the day. No per- 
son could long be an inmate of her family without 
feeling an assurance, that her heart was the residence 
of the Holy Spirit, and that it was her greatest plea- 
sure to do the will of her heavenly father. 

In the summer of 1833, Mrs. Taylor had the 
pleasure of introducing her children to her parents, 
and passing several months at their beloved home. 
Grateful as this was to her feelings, she was con- 
tinually reminded, by reflecting on the past and the 
present, that her hold on terrestrial things was feeble. 
She had frequently seen her fondly cherished plans 
frustrated, and was admonished to live in constant 
readiness for another world. The vicissitudes of life 
forcibly taught her, that, " those build too low who 
build beneath the skies." Thus God, by a species 
of moral discipline, carries on the work of grace in 
the hearts of his children, and makes their sufterin<is 
an important mean of preparing them for future 
glory. An extract from a letter to an afflicted friend 
will show the state of her mind at this time. 

" To Mrs. C. T. 

" iMiddle Haddain, Aug. 6, 1833. 
" My dear Catharine, — You will see from the 
date of this, that I am once more at my own dear 
home, among 'friends beloved.' Every thing here 
is as pleasant as ever; my friends are unwearied in 
their efforts to entertain and show kindness, — but all 
is changed. I look around and sec the same lovely 
landscape, gilded by the same sun, and enlivened by 
the same beautiful river, — yet as I gaze, my mind 



169 

will involuntarily recur to the past, — my heart arises, 
and deep sighs relieve my aching hreast ; I am a mere 
skeleton. But it is all right. I can sec the Lord's 
doings in these changes ; and bless his name for 
these afflictions. You know it is only ' throu»-h 
much tribulation, that we can enter the kingdom of 
heaven.' 

" Little Sarah is a comfort to me. Pray for me, 
that I may have that grace and wisdom which I 
need to train up my children for the Lord. My re- 
ligious enjoyment is just in proportion to the time I 
spend in communion with God. 

" When that ' faith, which works by love, puri- 
fies the heart, and overcomes the world,' is in vitror- 
ous exercise, we may exclaim, (not because our 
streams of earthly comfort have failed, but because 
eternal things rise above all the joys of earth,) how 
empty, how unsatisfying, are ail things here below ! 

" 1 rejoice that, in you bereavement, you have 
that consolation which the world cannot give. May 
you have much of the presence of Him whom, not 
having seen, you love, — may you go on from grace 
to grace untill grace is perfected in glory. 

" Your affectionate friend, Sarah." 

Mrs. Taylor returned to the city with renovated 
health, and actively engaged in all the duties of her 
station. Her exertions for the benefit of others 
were not confined to the domestic circle. When 
time and health would permit, she was a frequent 
and welcome visitor to the abode of sickness and 
suffering, and by her winning and persuasive manner, 
11 03 



170 

directed the thoughts of the afflicted to the rest re- 
served for the people of" God. 

yiy accjuaintancc with her cornnieuced in the lat- 
ter part of" this year, under circumstances which 
made a strong impression on my mind, and clearly 
developed some of" the lovely traits of" her character. 
In September, I removed to the vicinity of her resi- 
dence, and within a short period, several members of 
my family were visited with sickness, and brought to 
the borders of the grave. Mrs. Taylor's kindness 
and sympathy greatly endeared her to the sufferers, 
and was the mean of cementing a friendship termi- 
nating only with life. The recollection of those in- 
terviews cannot easily be effaced. Her whole coun- 
tenance beamed with benevolent feelings. It was 
impossible to be much in her society, without the 
sure conviction, that her piety was of an unusually 
elevated character. When the .subject of religion 
was introduced, she spoke from the deep fountains 
of her soul. Her remarks were happy and pertinent. 
She knew how to adapt herself to circumstances, and 
to turn the facilities she enjoyed for doing good, to 
the best advantage. Whatever pertained to the ex- 
tension of the Gospel enlisted her sympathies, and 
called forth her energies. You felt, while conversing 
with her, on this and kindred subjects, that you were 
communing with a spirit that had a high relish for 
communion with God, and whose daily prayer was 
for advancement of his glory, and the salvation of 
souls. Piety with her was a deep-seated principle. 
Its influence was seen in all the employments and 
vicissitudes of life. 

Distinguished as she was by errands of mercy, 



ill 

for the comfort and relief of the distressed, her 
christian graces shone with equal lustre, when the 
hand of affliction pressed heavily upon her, and of- 
fices of kindness were rendered by others. A great 
portion of the remainder of her life was spent in suf- 
fering ; yet a repining word was never known to 
escape from her lips. Her eye was fixed on her eternal 
home, and though for a little while its vision might 
be obscured for the trial of her faith, she evinced, 
under all circumstances, an humble acquiescence in 
the will of God, and a cheerful reliance on the merits 
of the Saviour. 



CHAPTER XL 

SpTcre Illness — Consolations of the Gospel— In\portance of Ma- 
terial Duties — Care of a Family relinquished — Temporary Sepa- 
ration from her Children — Journey to Philadelphia Summer 

Residence in New Jersey — Correspondence — Advice to a Can- 
didate for the Ministry — Continued Indisposition Trust in 

God. 

The incidents of 1834, in the life of Mrs. T., were 
comparatively few. She presented an interestino- 
example of patient endurance in the midst of much 
affliction. But her personal sufferings did not divert 
her mind from the interests of the church of God. 
She rejoiced in every instance of the display of Divine 
grace, whether in our land or among distant nations. 
Rarely would she speak of herself except to a few of 
her most intimate friends. Her prevailing desire, 
apparent at all times, was to do the work appointed 
for her by her heavenly Father. 



172 

In the performance of her daily duties she almost 
forgot that exhausted nature needed repose. She 
thought not of favourin<; herself, nor of the limits to 
human exertion, hut considering every moment pre- 
cious, passed from one sphere of action to another, 
determined to spare no eftbrts for promoting the 
comfort of her family, or for guiding the minds of 
her children in God's holy ways. With a constitu- 
tion enfcchlcd, a relief from care was indispensable. 
She yielded to the entreaty of others, and made trial 
of a change of air. The effect was salutary; and 
induced her to cherish the hope, that all unfavourable 
symptoms were removed. Much as her friends de- 
sired to arrive at the same conclusion, they were con- 
strained to take a less favourable view of the state of 
her health. The subsequent winter showed that their 
fears were well founded. Disease in its insidious 
forms had too firmly lodged itself in her system to 
yield to the ordinary remedies. The patient sufferer 
became sensible of the fact, and felt that she might 
soon be summoned to leave her frail tenement. Her 
mind was raised above the joys and employments 
of earth, — her faith in the promises gathered fresh 
strength, — her conversation was spiritual and edi- 
fying. 

It was the privilege of the writer to visit her 
repeatedly at this period. She seemed to him, like 
one whom the Lord had carried through deep waters, 
yet they had not overflowed her. Her room was 
cheered by a holy radiance. The transient observer 
could not but remark, that she was prepared for any 
vicissitude. Life and its enjoyments presented few 
attractions. The liizht of another world had shone 



173 

into her apartment and communicated its cheering 
influences to her soul. Knowing tliat her home was 
heyond the bounds of earth, she could not cherish a 
strong desire to continue here. She sought conti- 
nually to be prepared to enter that city which hath 
foundations, whose builder is the Lord our God; and 
spoke in the most humble and affecting manner 
of the sustaining influence of Divine grace. " The 
Lord," she says, " has been with me and sustained 
my soul through the whole of my sickness. Why 
should I desire to live, if he should think proper to 
remove me hence? My heart has often wandered 
from him : and I see within me great need of contri- 
tion of soul, and an humble trust in the all-sufticiency 
of the Saviour." 

Being asked if she had enjoyed communion with 
God, she said, " I have had many precious seasons ; 
and felt willing to leave my dearest interests in the 
Lord's hand, rejoicing that they are at his disposal. 
How could I be otherwise than resigned and happy 
when I thought of what Jesus had endured for me !" 
It being suggested that his sympathy in our con- 
flicts and sufferings was a rich source of comfort, she 
broke forth with peculiar animation, " O yes ! the 
thought, that he, who was equal with the Father, 
and possessed of every perfection, should humble 
himself to assume our nature, and be moved with a 
sense of our infirmities, is almost too much for human 
conception. It gives us such elevated views of the 
surpassing riches of Divine grace, that we are lost in 
the contemplation. Could we suitably realize all that 
has been done to procure our salvation, every day 
would be spent to the glory of God. 



174 

"The world appears very different when eternity 
is bursting upon our view, from what it does when 
we arc engaged in tlie usual pursuits of life. It is in 
liours like these we perceive the inestimable value of 
the Gospel. What cheering hope, what ardent love, 
what holy confidence it inspires ! Can any thing be 
more refreshing than to feel in the time of our crreat- 
est sufferings that the Lord is by our side — that he 
will never forsake us ?" 

On another occasion, when she had acquired suf- 
ficient strength to walk about the room, her attention 
being arrested by the beauties of the firmament, she 
remarked, " If the sun in this lower world shines 
forth so gloriously, how exalted must be the privi- 
lege to behold the ineffable glories of the Sun of 
righteousness. May we not look forward with joy 
to the time when this mortal shall put on immortality, 
and death be swallowed up in life ? What a life that 
must be, in which the Saviour is eternally present ; 
when all sorrow shall be removed, and tears be wiped 
from every eye ! Who would not rejoice in these 
afflictions which aid in preparing for so blissful a 
state ?" 

By the advice of her physician, on the first of May. 
three years after slie first took her place as the heat! 
of a family, she relinquished it, and passed the re- 
maining portion of her life with some of her friends. 
This change was attended with mucii sacrifice of 
feeling, more especially on account of her children. 
She knew the value of a mother's counsel, and the 
throbbings of a mother's heart. Children may be 
with others who love them, who are anxious to sup- 
ply their recurring wants; but none can supply the 



175 

place of a christian mother. Her feeUngs cannot be 
transferred to other hearts. Her sohcitude cannot 
be awakened in other breasts. Remove the mother 
from the child, and you remove the dearest earthly 
friend; you break the strongest hold upon the infant 
mind. Kindness and sympathy may be manifested 
by others — real affection may exist, may be fondly 
cherished; but the ardent promptings, the yearning 
anxiety, the personal sacrifices, the sleepless nights 
of the mother will be awanting. 

Mrs. T. was admirably qualified by nature and 
educated for the performances of a mother's duties. 
Her tender sensibility, quick perception, and dis- 
criminating judgment, enabled her to act with dis- 
cretion, and to accomplish, with unusual ease, the 
object she had in view. Above all, the great con- 
troling principle of her life, love to God and a regard 
for his requirements, eminently prepared her for every 
sphere of action, and to bow submissive to every al- 
lotment of Providence. In the midst of trials she 
could say, " It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth 
to him good." " He presides over all our delibera- 
tions, and will restore health, or remove to the other 
world, as shall be most conformable to the purposes 
of infinite wisdom. What are we, that we should 
reply against his visitations, or desire to stay his up- 
lifted arm?" 

She passed several weeks in May, at Philadelphia. 
The journey was considered beneficial. She greatly 
enjoyed the interview with christian friends there, 
and seemed almost to forixct that she was an invalid. 
Hope whispered that with prudent care she might 
resume her maternal duties and have the satisfaction 



176 

of seeing her beloved children reared by Jier side. 
To those arounil her a far dittcrcnt train of thought 
was suggested. They saw the flush in her cheek, 
lier oppressed respiration, and how entirely prostrate 
a small effort would often leave her. Their kind 
assiduities were cheerfully rendered to promote her 
comfort, Philadelj)hia was associated in her mind 
with the recollection of those who acted a mother's 
and sister's part. Shortly after her return she visited 
her children, who were taken to Conn, the last of 
April, with the intention of spending the summer 
with them. But her disease assuming a more un- 
favourable appearance it became evident that a milder 
air was essential to the preservation of her life. 
Orange, in New Jersey, was selected as aflPording a 
pleasant retreat in the vicinity of the city. She 
was conveyed there the 29th of June. 

It is painful to think of a sufferer going from place 
to place in pursuit of health, and disease steadily 
advancing. Yet these afflictions, while they show 
in a touching light the consequences of sin, when 
sanctified by Divine grace, exhibit those who endure 
them in an attitude of peculiar interest. " Religion 
is most powerful in affliction. It is powerful, because 
it shows that even affliction itself can make man no- 
bler than he was; and that there is a gracious eye 
that marks the conflict, and is ever ready to smile 
with more than aj)prohation on the victor. To the 
indigent, to the oppressed, to the diseased, while life 
lias still a single sorrow to be borne, it flings on the 
short twilight a portion of the splendour of that ini- 
mortality into which it is almost dawning ; and when 
life is closing, it is itself the first joy of that immor- 
tality which begins." 



177 

A few extracts from Mrs. Taylor's correspondence 
will illustrate this sentiment. 

"To Mrs. A. D. S., Colchester, Conn. 

"Orange, July 1, 18.33. 

" My ever-dear Friend, — It seems to me a long 
while since we exchanged the parting salutation ; and 
time, my dear Rebecca, as he has made his repeated 
circuits, has written many pages in the volume of my 
experience which were then blank. I have been re- 
peatedly on the borders of another world — and sup- 
posed that eternity and its realities were opening be- 
fore me. 

" Do you ask how I felt in view of these things ? 
I saw nothing of the gloom of the * dark valley.' Only 
the bri<rhtness and glory of the world beyond rose to 
my view. I was ready continually to sing, 

" ' Oh, glorious hour ! oh blessed abode !' &c. 

" But the Lord restored me to a comfortable de- 
gree of health. I had previously been obliged to 
o-ive up my children, house-keeping, and every care. 
My physician said, ' my case was hopeless, unless I 
would relinquish all these, and travel whenever my 
strenoth would allow.' We went to Philadelphia the 
last of May. I had a very pleasant visit, and felt so 
much benefited, that immediately after my return I 
proceeded to Conn, to see my children ; but found 
myself too feeble to inhale the pure air of my native 
hills without injury. My health continuing to fail, I 
took a hasty leave and returned to the city. I 
fainted at every attempt to exert myself untill my 
arrival here. You will perceive from the trembling 
H 2 



ITS 

of hand in writing that I was still feeble. Were 
you to meet me unexpectedly, you would not recog- 
nise me. Sickness lias changed my whole appear- 
ance. Will you pray for me, dear R., that these re- 
peated chastenings of my heavenly Father may be 
truly sanctified to me ; that these warnings may lead 
me to live in constant preparation for the last sum- 
mons ? 

" Ever your affectionate friend, S. L. Taylor." 

Having received information that her children 
were sick, she writes thus to her sister : — 

" Orange, July 6, 1835. 
" My dear Sister, — I have one comfort in this 
case, — I can confidently commend them and you to 
Him who sees us all continually, whose watchful care 
is ever over us for good. Day and night they arc 
under his protection, without whose notice not a 
sparrow falls to the ground. I have given my chil- 
dren to God for life and for death, — and I know that 
he is able to keep whatever I commit to him. 
Should he see fit to remove them from our embrace, 
we know that the dispensation would be wise, how- 
ever trying it might be for us to bear it. We can- 
not doubt that stronger love than mortal ever knew, 
even the love that led to the redemption of guilty 
man, would be the theme of their praises in that 
world where sin and sorrow can never enter, where 
there is neither sickness nor separation. When I 
think of heaven as it must be — as the Bible describes 
it— (k,\th is nothing, life is nothing compared to the 
glory chat awaits those to whom it is promised. 
" Yours affectionately, Sarah." 



179 

To a brother of licr husband, who was preparhig 
for the ministry, slie thus writes : — 

" Orange, July G, I&3.'j. 

" My dear Brother, Warren, — Since my return 
from Connecticut I have had another season of suf- 
fering, but am now comparatively well. Were I 
relieved from this cough I might hope for the enjoy- 
ment of health, and once more have around me in my 
home my little loved ones and others who are dear to 
me. In regard to all these things, I desire to have 
no will of my own. ' The Lord reigneth, let the 
earth rejoice.' He has promised that ' all things shall 
work together for crood to those that love him.' 

" We arc hound by many strong ties to those 
with whom we are connected in the endearing rela- 
tions of life ; but we may so attend to our various 
duties as to appropriate to ourselves, in a certain 
sense, the language of the Psalmist, ' I have set 
the Lord always before me.' I think christians 
allow themselves to look too much at present difficul- 
ties and trials, without casting 'an eye of faith' for- 
word to the completion of this probationary state. 
True we have present duties to perform ; but these 
are lightened and sweetened by the anticipation of 
that state in which we shall serve Him who redeemed 
•us without weariness, fear, or sin. 

" I am gratified in learning that you are pleased 
with your situation, and hope you will persevere un- 
till you are ' thoroughly furnished' for the high and 
holy vocation to which you aspire. Were you near 
me, it would be my delight to do many things for 
you which only mothers or sisters feel interested about. 



ISO 

I need not say, that in all your hopes, prospects, and 
success, I am deeply concerned. You speak of 
gaining a year by studying during the vacation. 
I would not advise nor dictate — but I hope you will 
not. Such a course can rarely be pursued with per- 
manent advantage. Suppose thereby you enter the 
ministry a year sooner, will you be as well qualified 
for your arduous and highly responsible duties as by 
devoting more time to preparatory studies? It also 
deserves to be considered that by the plan proposed, 
you may, like many others, ruin your health and 
bring yourself to a premature grave. Make these 
things matters of conscience ; endeavour to judge 
impartially, and do not undertake more than you have 
ability to accomplish. 

"I would fill the sheet, but writing fatigues me 
very much. In your prayers remember your sin- 
cerely affectionate sister, Sarah." 

In the latter part of this month she spent a few 
hours with her children. An account of the visit, 
with the affecting circumstances, shall be given in her 
own lan<jua<je. 

" To Mrs. C. H., Buffalo, New York. 

" Orange, N. J., July 31, 1835. 
" My dear Mrs. H., — I have a very pleasant 
home, and am as agreeably situated as I can be 
while separated from my dear children. Last week I 
left here — thinkinjj, as the weather was settled and 
very warm, I might spend at least a few days at 
Middle Haddam. But our friends consented only 
ou condition of my returning the following day. 



181 

Wc reached there late in the aficnioon, and left 
early the next morning; I had no sooner taken n>y 
babe in my arms, than, unmindful of any one else 
around me, I gave vent to my long suppressed feelings. 
Presently my dear mother's aflPectionate voice recalled 
roe to myself. ' Think, my child,' she said, ' what 
cause you have for gratitude. You find them well 
and happy: Why give way to tears?' I felt the 
justness of her mild rebuke, and tried to subdue 
my almost uncontrolable emotions. Since I parted 
with them early in June, I have considered it very 
doubtful whether I should ever see them again ; and 
when I did press them once more to my bosom, 
knowing I could only see them a few short hours — 
you will understand my feelings. 

" Last winter I often asked myself what would 
become of them in case of my death, which was 
apparently near at hand. But now I find that I can 
live and commit the whole cave of them to others. 
How few who are obliged to give up children have so 
comfortable a home for them ! Surely goodness and 
mercy have followed me all the days of my life. 

" My cough is still troublesome. I can vvalk a short 
distance, but am unable to take any other exercise. 
May I feel that this visitation is from the Lord : ' Let 
him do what seemeth to him good.' What is this 
life compared to the next ? In a few short years it 
will be of little moment whether we now suffer afflic- 
tion or are tried by prosperity. Oh, it is much easier 
to give up the world, and cleave to the Saviour as 
our all and in all when bowed down with sorrow, than 
when all around is bright and the heart beams with 
health and hope^ 

" Ever yours, S. L. Taylor.'* 



182 

In writing to Mr. Taylor's mother under date of 
August 1, after relating several particulars contained 
in the preceding letter, she proceeds, " I have indeed, 
my dear mother, been brought to the very verge of 
the invisible world ; and in view of the change appa- 
rently so near, I felt willing to resign whatever 1 held 
most dear on earth, and to trust all to Him who has 
promised to ' keep that which is committed to him.' 
I am now relieved from immediate apprehension, and 
hope patiently to wait my appointed time. 

" My home, though among strangers, is very 
pleasant. I am surrounded with comforts, and every 
day brings new mercies. Brother R. will tell you 
many things which I am too feeble to write. I hope 
if possible you will visit us this season. By no one 
will you be more cordially received than by your affec- 
tionate daughter, Sarah L ■" 



CHAPTER XII. 

Consultation of Pliysicians — Hope of Life Relinquislied — Final 
Parting with her Children — Letters Written on the Trying 
Occasion — A Mother's Advice to her Children — Depression 
of Spirits — Importance of keeping the Saviour steadily in View. 

Mrs. Taylor returned to the city the last of Sep- 
tember, indulging the fond hope that at no distant 
period she might be reunited with her children. She 
did meet them ; but that meeting was only preparatory 
to a final separation. They were with her for a few 
days and she saw them no more. It has already been 
mentioned that she had committed them temporarily 



183 

to the charcrc of her sister at M. H., Connecticut. 
Here slic would gladly have had them remain; but 
the failure of the health of that sister rendered it im- 
possible for her to retain the care of them. 

Mrs. Taylor addressed a few lines to her sister by 
the person who went for the babe. Her eldest child 
had been previously taken to the city. 

"Thursday, ;>.»«., October 8, 1835. 

" My dear Sister, — A thousand thoughts float 
across my mind, and I know not which to express 
first. All this was so unexpected, that I should not 
feel reconciled to it were I not persuaded of its ne- 
cessity. Do not fear for the dear child ; God will 
provide for him. How gladly would I have gone for 
him if I could have done so without injury to my 
own health. Few thintjs have tried mc more than 
your present sickness. 

" My dear sister, I look at all these circumstances, 
at our sickness and inability, to be of service, the one 
to the other, and, could 1 look no farther, my heart 
would burst. But ' the Lord reigns.' I have felt the 
meaning of this little sentence within a few days, and 
can rejoice in the assurance it conveys. I would com- 
fort you if it were in my power to impart consolation. 
I can only direct you to a high and unfailing source 
from which you may draw a rich supply. 

" Your affectionate sister, Sarah." 

This was a period full of anxiety to Mrs. Taylor 
and her sympathising friends. Several physicians 
were consulted, who gave no encouragement to expect 
her recovery. A speedy dissolution was apprehended. 



184 

"What should be done with the dear cliildien, was 
a question of deep interest to the parental heart ! The 
decision involved much, in which all her feelings 
were enlisted. She acquiesced in it when made, 
though not without a most severe struggle. They 
were entrusted to the care of their crandmother in 
the western part of New York. The following note 
was written by their mother the evening before their 
departure, introducing them to their new home : — 

" New York, October 18, 1835. 
" My dear Mother, — Before you read this you 
will doubtless have embraced my precious little trea- 
sures. You know a mother's duty, responsibility, 
and affection, and can well imagine what it would 
cost me to give them up even with the hope of seeing 
them again on earth. But when I think that we 
may meet no more, my feelings rise, and did I not 
see my duty clearly marked out 1 should shrink back. 
They have been given to God in baptism, and I 
trust dedicated to him on the altar of our hearts. 
That they may early love him, and be taught to feel 
that the advancement of his glory should be the 
great aim of their lives is my sincere prayer for them. 
*' If they but get safely to your arms I know you 
will love them for their father's sake — and may I not 
hope for mine too? Think of the dear babe,* he 
lias never seen me enough to know me, and yet 
how kindly an ever-watchful Providence has dealt with 
im. His looks show that he has never suffered for 
want of good care. Perhaps he is sent to you to fill 

• He was taken from bcr to Connecticut when only two montlis 
old. 



185 

the vacancy that death has made in your group of 
little ones. Take them, love them, but do not in- 
dulge them unreasonably, for they will soon discover 
and take advantage of it. 

" My thoughts will be often with you, and 1 need 
not say my prayers will be daily offered for you all. 
Remember me when you draw near tlie Mercy-seat, 
and let us be comforted by the assurance that, — 

" * Though painful at present, 
'Twill cease before long; 
And then, O how pleasant 
The conqueror's song!' 

" Your affectionate daughter, Sarah." 

A letter to Mrs. C. H. Buffalo, N. Y., commenced 
on the same day with the preceding, makes us still 
further acquainted with her feelings when the trying 
moment of separation had arrived. 

" New York, October 18, 1836. 

" My dear Friend, — That man sees not through 
the thin partition of an hour, how true, how fully 
verified in the experience of every day ! If we are 
indeed christians, we see in the changes of this ever- 
varying world, abundant reason to rejoice, not only 
that it is not our continuing city or abiding place,' but 
that ' The Lord reigns.' This truth has recently 
been very comforting to me, and reconciled me to 
what at first seemed more than I could bear. How 
cheering the reflection, ' He knows our frame, he 
remembers that we are but dust,' and 'as our day is, 
so will our strength be*' 



186 

" The increasincr and alarmiiifj state of sister H.'s 
indisposition made it necessary to remove my babe 
from home. My cough returned with all its attendant 
sufferings. I have lost what I had gained in strength ; 
and though I am at present very comfortable, it is 
not considered prudent to keep either of my children 
with me. Probably I shall never claim them as 
mine again. I am thankful that such a home is 
provided for them. Dear little helpless ones ! They 
have been given to God. He 'loves his own, and 
loves them unto the end.' That they may glorify 
him whether they live or die is my continual prayer 
for them." 

" Wednesday Evening. 

" They have gone, my dear Mrs. H. I have im- 
printed on their little cheeks probably my last kiss. 
Oh it was trying to see them, so smihng and uncon- 
scious, borne away from me so far away ! The bitter- 
ness was in the thought, that with reference to time, 
they are gone from me for ever. 

" It is a very solemn work to bring death in our 
own case near at hand. But it must be done — and 
why should the christian wish to avert the summons 
which is to call him to his Saviour, free him from sin 
and suffering, and place him in possession of glory 
and joy unspeakable and eternal ? ' I he spirit is 
willing, but the flesh is weak.' If we overcome it 
will be of srace — t^race, because Christ has died — 
yea, has risen again, and sits at the right hand of 
God. Through him we may hope for victory even 
over the last enemy. 

" My past life seems a blank — except in regard 
to sin. I cannot remember one action performed 



187 

from purity of motive, at least without some selfish- 
ness or other sinful principle being associated with 
it. Oh, there is nothing naturally in the human 
heart but enmity to God. Whatever of an opposite 
nature exists there is implanted by Him who created 
lifrht out of darkness. Could I see E. and S., I 
would say to them, Live in readiness for death ; for 
after death comes the judgment. 

" It fatigues my chest exceedingly to write; but 
with a full heart how can I stop ? Will you pray 
for me, for my babes, and for Sarah ? It is cheering 
to know that I am remembered before God by 
christian friends. We shall meet again. That it 
may be in that world where we shall be clothed 
with a Saviour's righteousness and washed in his 
atoning blood, may our heavenly Father grant for 
his Son's sake. 

" Ever yours sincerely, Sarah L. Taylor." 

A few days later, she wrote to her sister, giving 
some additional particulars respecting the children 
and herself at this trying season. 

"New York, Oct. 29, 1835. 

" My dear sister Harriet, — You must have been 
very anxious to hear from our dear babe, and all the 
rest of us. I delayed writing for a week that I 
might tell you they are comfortably settled. They 
left on the 1 9th instant for Albion, near Buffalo, in 
charge of their father and Mrs. Taylor. They 
reached there on Saturday, and were cordially wel- 
comed by their grandmother and members of the 
family. They were as well and happy as possible 
when Mr. T. came away. 



188 

" III a world where every hour produces changes, 
not only in the face of nature, and in circumstances 
around us, but in our whole frame, we ought to be 
prepared for unexpected occurrences and trials. My 
health is such, that it was considered advisable to 
send dear little C. away with the babe. Oh ! the 
trying moments it has cost me to give them up, and 
they so unconscious, affectionate, and happy. While 
I weep as I think of them, I can rejoice that such 
a home is provided for them. Could I hear that 
you are recovering, and have a prospect of enjoying 
comfortable health again, I should have another 
great cause for thankfulness. Were my strength 
sufficient, there is much in my heart I would gladly 
communicate to you and my dear mother. Probably 
we shall meet no more in time. To one and all of 
you I would say, ' Be ye also ready.' Contrast 
time with eternity, and what is it ? What are all 
the pleasures and delights of earth, compared with 
the joys which God has prepared for those who love 
him? I think much of you, and have shed many 
tears while writing this, tears of affection and grati- 
tude. I know I am dear to you, and you may feel 
that it cannot, must not be. Oh ! remember, the 
Lord will do ' all things well.' I suffer but little 
comparatively, and receive every necessary attention 
.Hud kindness from those around me. Nothing that 
can contribute to my comfort is withheld. Do not 
delay writing a single mail. 

" Ever your affectionate sister, Sakah." 

Though separated from her children, she could 
not forget them, nor cease to devise means for the 



189 

promotion of their happiness. Knowing they were 
too young to remember her, she thought a written 
testimony of her regard and anxiety for them might 
speak effectually to their hearts in maturer years, 
shoukl their lives be prolonged. With this object 
in view, and to inspire them with reverence for sacred 
truth, she procured for each of them a Testament, 
to be presented at some future time, in which she 
wrote what she then considered her last advice. For 
her eldest son she selected the following lines, as ex- 
pressing a mother's feelings and wishes. 

" Remember, love, who gave thee this, 
When other days shall come, 
When she who had thy earliest kiss 
Sleeps in her narrow home ! 
Remember, 'twas a mother gave 
The gift to one she'd die to save. 

" That mother sought a pledge of love, 

The holiest for her son, 

And from the gifts of God above 

She chose a goodly one; 

She chose for her beloved boy 

The source of light and life and joy ; 

" And bade him keep the gift, that when 

The parting hour should come. 

They might have hope to meet again. 

In an eternal home. 

She said his faith in that would be 

Sweet incense to her memory. 

" And should the scoffer, in his pride. 

Laugh that faith to scorn. 

And bid him cast the pledge aside. 

That he from youth had borne ; 

She bade him pause, and ask his breast, 

If he or she had loved him best. 



190 

" A parent's Messing on her son, 
Goes witli this holy thing ; 
The heart that would retain the one 
Must to the other cling. 
Keinember ! 'tis no idle toy, 
A mother's gift— remember, boy !" 
"Oetober, 1835." 

To this she afterwards added a direct address in 
her own language. 

'• My dear Cornelius, — Do you remetnber with 
how much interest and attention 1 listened to your 
innocent prattle ? Do you remember how often you 
climbed the easy chair in which I sat, an invalid, 
and clasping your arms around me, would say, ' Dear 
mamma, I do love you'? That your affection for 
me was fully returned, you cannot doubt ; and now 
that He who loves you more than father or mother, 
and knows infinitely better than either of us, what 
is for our good, seems about to take me from you, I 
wish to leave something, which shall be to you con- 
vincing proof of the nature of my regard for you. 
I have chosen this little volume. Value it as the 
gift of your dying mother ; as the word of God sent 
down from heaven. Esteem it above all price. 
Treasure in your mind, believe in your heart, and 
practise in your life, the truths this precious book 
contains ; and the great end of your existence, to 
glorify God, and secure the salvation of your im- 
mortal soul, will be attained. 

" You will, if you live, be surrounded by tempta- 
tions of various kinds. Let the gospel of Christ be 
your defence. Take it, my son, as a light to your 
feet, a lamp to your path, — and it will never fail 



191 

you; — you will be thoroughly furnished unto every 
good work. Make it your daily study, and ever 
pray, that the Spirit, which taught holy men of old 
to write, may lead you to the knowledge of the truth 
as it is in Jesus. Remember, if you at last fail of 
the grace of eternal life, your guilt will be great and 
aggravated, in proportion to the light and knowledge 
you have enjoyed. Oh, my son, make God youi 
friend through Christ your Saviour. Even in your 
infancy you can love him. To him, as a covenant- 
keeping God, 1 commend you. May you he kept by 
his power, through faith. A brief period then, and 
we shall be united for a blissful eternity. Farewell. 
" Your attectionate mother, S. L. Taylor." 

'"Make God your friend in youthful years; 
He will your footsteps guide, 
Through all your pilgrimage of tears, 
Till all your tears are dried.'" 

In the Testament of her youngest son, then about 
eight months old, she wrote the following letter. 

" My dear George — In heaven, the world of light 
and glory, where God reigns, there is no parting, no 
farewell. And when those whom death separates on 
earth are reunited there, the union lasts for ever. 
How shall 1 address yon ! What language shall I 
use, to convey to you an idea of my desires for you; 
my ardent, heart-felt desires, that you may be a 
' son brought home to glory,' — that we may be eter- 
nally praise Him together who redeemed us with his 
own precious blood? Before you can, in any de- 
gree, appreciate these desires, I shall, in all proba- 
bility have been long silent in death. Be he, who 
is ' a covenant-keeping God,' ever lives, ever keeps 



192 

that which is commit ted to his charge, in kind re- 
membrance. 

" To him, my son, you have been dedicated in 
solemn baptism. Will you not, in your early years, 
as soon as you can understand your duty, ratify your- 
self this covenant, and give your soul and body, for 
time and eternity, to Christ the Saviour? It is 
your reasonable service. It is the design of your 
creation, and you may believe the testimony of one 
who stands on the borders of another world, — one 
who loves you as another never can. There is 
nothing but the service of God worth living for, and 
nothing but his promise in Christ Jesus can support 
the soul, in the near prospect of that hour, when 
heart and flesh shall fail us. Better to possess this 
book, without any other earthly portion, than to 
command millions of wealth, and be destitute of the 
knowledge of its precious truths. Better to be left 
an infant orphan, consecrated by prayers and tears to 
God, than to have all the care and affection of pa- 
rents who have not the fear of God before their 
eyes. 

" Keep this little volume, as the last gift of an 
aflPectionate mother, whom you have never known. 
I have prayed that a blessing may accompany it, and 
if you read it with a prayerful disposition, it will 
prove to you a rich legacy, and will point out plainly 
the way by which you may secure 'a crown of glory, 
an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that 
fadeth not away. Then may you hope to meet me 
in that world, where love shall fill our hearts, and 
tune our harps to praise, throughout eternity ! 

" Your Mother. 

"Nsw York, Oct., 1835." 



193 

Her adopted cliild, who remained with liev when 
tlie babes were removed, shared largely in her affec- 
tions, and received a similar token of" maternal soli- 
citude. 

*' My dear Child, — You are an immortal being* 
That means, you must live for ever. Not here, in 
this changing, unsatisfying, sinful state; but in an- 
other world, in heaven, with Christ and saints and 
angels, and be continually increasing in holiness, 
knowledge, and happiness ; or be banished from the 
presence of God, and left to endure the gnawings of 
the worm that never dies. You have been dedicated 
to God in baptism, and renewedly consecrated to him 
by an affectionate mother, now in glory. 

" ^oon I expect to meet her there, and I leave for 
you this precious little volume, enjoining upon you, 
that when you have no mother to watch over, to 
counsel, and pray with you, you will daily read a 
portion of it, and pray to Christ, for yourself. Never 
neglect it. Always ask of God to enlighten the 
eyes of your understanding, that you may behold 
wondrous things out of his law. 

" May the Holy Spirit apply the truths of the 
Gospel, with clear and convincing power, to your 
heart ; may you see and feel your ruined condition, 
and cast yourself uineservedly upon Christ, as your 
only hope of salvation. 

" ' Now that your journpy's just begun, 
Your road so little trod, 
Come now, l)efore you farther run, 
And give yourself to God.' 

1 63 



194 

" Then, though left twice ' an orphan, you will 
not l)e alone or comfortless ;' but will have such en- 
joyment as "• earth can neither give nor take away.' 
Every sorrow will be sanctified, every pleasure en- 
hanced, and while you seek to glorify God, in what- 
ever sphere he may place you, you may hope to meet, 
in heaven, those who so dearly loved you while on 
earth, and unite with them in ascriptions of praise to 
Him ' who so loved us all, as to give himself a ransom 
for us, and who washed us from our sins in his own 
blood.' 

"New York, October, 1835." 

While her thoughts were fixed on others, they 
were necessarily, in some degree, diverted from her- 
self. The separation from her children, the endea- 
vour to leave a record of her wishes respecting them, 
which might be recurred to with profit in after years, 
exhausted her strength, and, for the time, affected 
her spirits. Who will be surprised to learn, that 
this excitement of her whole frame rendered special 
exertion necessary, to regain her former enjoyment, 
and stay herself upon the Saviour of sinners .'' 

On the 30tli of October, I was sent for to visit her. 
The interview was peculiarly affecting. She seemed 
to realize that the hand of death was upon her, and 
disclosed, with her accustomed frankness^ the state 
of her mind. She expressed her firm, unwavering 
conviction of the ability and willingness of Jesus to 
save all who trust in him ; and her difficulty in ap- 
propriating to herself the comforts of the Gospel. 

A free conversation ensued respecting the pccnli- 
arities of the Gospel plan, for the salvation of a guilty 



195 

world; how infinitely it exceeded in wisdom any thing 
that man could devise, — how every feature of it was 
stamped with the holiness and loveliness of its au- 
thor, and displayed the glories of redeeming love. 
The dealings of the Lord with his suffering and af- 
flicted children were referred to, and the remarkable 
manner in which he often interposes in their behalf, 
and causes light to arise in the midst of darkness. 

When her own experience in past trials and con- 
flicts was mentioned, she gratefully acknowledged 
that the Lord had been with her in them, verified all 
his precious promises, and sustained her in a way 
that appeared truly astonishing She was then asked 
whether in view of all these things she could, for b 
moment, reUnquish her hold upon him ? Her reply 
evinced that, though her hope was feeble, her con- 
fidence in the Lord remained. " 1 can truly say, ' I 
know that my Redeemer Uveth." God has been gra- 
cious to me, far beyond what I had the least reason 
to expect ; but my heart appears so sinful, so many 
unholy thoughts have place there, that it can hardly 
be right for me to indulge a hope of salvation." 

The following question was then proposed to her. 
Should you meet with a person greatly distressed on 
account of sin, what would you say to him ? " I would 
point him to the Lamb of God, who taketh away the 
sins of the world. I would plead with him not to 
yield himself the victim of despair, but to throw him- 
self entirely upon the merits of Christ." Could you 
not also remind him of what you have enjoyed of the 
love and peace of God, and of the strength which 
has been imparted to you in seasons of tribulation ? 
" Oh ! yes, it seems to me that my heart could sing 



196 

of'tlic goodness of the Lord. I would urge all that 
arc out of Clirist to flee to him, :i9 a sure defence." 
I tiien asked her, how she could allow herself ta 
cherish apprehensions respecting the future? She 
replied, " I ought not, but the Saviour has done so 
jnuch for me, and 1 have been so ungrateful, and 
made such poor returns, that I have felt as though it 
was scarcely possible that he could receive me as his 
own." Do you hope to be saved on account of any 
merit or inherent holiness that you possess ? " Ob ? 
no, grace, free unmerited grace is the ground of all 
my hope. Jesus is a complete Saviour. He pitied 
me when I was wandering from him, and kindly 
brouc^ht me to his fold." Will he ever refuse to 
own those who trust themselves in liis hands, looking 
to him, and him only, for salvation ! " It cannot be, 
but I need continually to pray — Lord, increase my 
faith." 

This interview has been particularly noticed, be- 
cause it exhibits Mrs. Taylor suffering from a source 
but too common among christians; and though in 
her case the trial was but temporary, yet should the 
mention of it arrest the eye of any reader of this me- 
moir, who is suffering from a similar cause, and be the 
mean of fixing the attention exclusively upon Jesus 
Christ, as our great atoning sacrifice, the result will 
not fail to be salutary. 

An extract of a letter from the Rev. Mr. Winslow, 
though suggested by an earlier portion of Mrs. I'ay- 
lor's history, has so important a bearing on this sub- 
iect, that 1 cannot deny myself the satisfaction of 
introducing it here. 

" I have remarked, that her spiritual sky was not 



197 

always cloudless. This can be easily traced to its 
true cause, a removal of faith's eye from off the 
finished work of the blessed Emmanuel. Here was 
the grand secret of all the spiritual darkness of which 
siie complained. Yes, and may I not add, of all the 
spiritual darkness which ever settles upon the mind 
of a child of God. How much to be regretted, that 
this evil, so common, is yet so much overlooked. 
Led, as the believer lias been, in the commencement 
of his christian course, to despair of all hope spring- 
ing from himself, and to rest as a helpless sinner, in 
Christ and in Christ alone, he experiences the peace 
of God, which passeth all understanding. Yet in the 
successive stages of his pilgrimage, into what seasons 
of darkness and doubt is he brought, from a forget- 
fulness of the truth, that the view of Christ upon 
which he first ventured to hope in God's mercy, must 
be the view that is to sustain and clieer him every 
step of his future journeyings. Looking within him- 
self for evidences, perhaps certain indefinable impres- 
sions of which he knows neither the nature nor the 
origin — and removing the eye from off tiie cross, the 
believer is all his lifetime in bondage through fear 
of condemnation. 

" It is this reversing the order observed in the 
economy of redemption, — this placing the ISpirit's 
work in the position of Christ's work, which is the 
cause of such leanness in the soul. Great and pre- 
cious as is the work of the Holy Spirit, — happy and 
holy as he is who partakes largely of his influence, 
yet we should be cautious lest we make him a sub- 
stitute for Christ. If, then, we look to the work of 
the Spirit within us, as the source of our evidence 



198 

and comfort, while wc close the eye upon what Christ 
is in himself, what he has accomplished, and what 
he is now doing on his mediatorial throne; what is 
this but to substitute the effect for the cause, to turn 
our face from the sun and complain that we see not 
its lustre, to veil it from the earth and wonder the 
seed does not vegetate, and the plants do not bloom ?" 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Ilenewal of Enjoyment — Memento of a beloved Friend — Duty of 
Christians to live near to God — Value of Sympatliy — Observ- 
ance of the Lord's day — Gratifying exhibition of Faith and 
Love — Claims of the Heatlieii. 

Mrs. Taylok emerged from the darkness which had 
shrouded her vision, and derived, if possible, more 
than her accustomed enjoyment from the contempla- 
tion of the Divine character and perfections. Even 
hours of comparative gloom, trying at the time, were 
sanctified to her, and became the mean of elevating 
her affections, increasing her faith, and binding her 
more firmly to the Lord. Her own reference to the 
subject, in a letter to her mother-in-law, evinces the 
beautiful simplicity of her character, and the lovely 
spirit by which she was animated. 

"New York, Nov. 3, 1835. 

" My dear Mother, — Again I am permitted to 

address you in the only way in which we shall, 

probably, ever have intercourse on earth. Even this 

is to me a great privilege. For I feel that I am no 



199 

more a stranger, when 1 can make known to vou 
things concerning me and mine, in whicli vou too 
are interested. Since I last wrote, I have looked 
upon death as very near ; and though my mind has 
been clouded, and the sin of unbelief chcrisheil to my 
own distress, yet I now can cast my soul, my all, for 
time and eternity, upon Christ, the only refuge for 
lost sinners. Will you not make it a subject of 
special prayer, that all my confidence may be in Jesus, 
in the satisfaction he has given, and the atonement 
he has made ? I am not anxious as to the result 
of my sickness — 'may I but know that Christ is 
mine.' I ask no more. Come then, life or death, 
all things shall work together for my good. 

" I suffer but little. God is indeed dealing very 
gently with me ; and if he is about to dissolve the 
earthly house, this tabernacle, he is doing it in a way 
of mercy. 

" That you all love the dear children well enough, 
I have no doubt. Should they live, will you not 
endeavour to impress upon their minds that the3r 
have been especially consecrated to God ? May he 
grant them desires to glorify him, even in their 
earliest years. How short the time — and we, and 
those we love, if the friends of Christ, shall he be- 
yond the influence of change or sin ! 

" To dear brother W., I would say, what he 
already knows, and I hope feels, that there is nothing 
on earth for which we should desire to live but the 
glory of God. 

" Remember me most affectionately to every mem- 
of the family. Say to them that my prayer, and I 
trust my heart's desire, is, that we may meet in 



200 

heaven. Tell my father, that I thank him for his 
kindness and afFection to my dear habes, and feel 
more tlian I can express. Kiss them for their mother, 
and little Sarah, who loves them dearly. 
" Believe me, your aftcctionate dau^^htcr, 

« S. L. Taylor.'* 

Several days after the last date, Mrs. Taylor ad- 
dressed a few lines to a dear friend, as a memento, 
when she was gone, of her feelings and wishes. 

" When morning gilds the eastern skies, 
And I from peaceful slumbers rise. 
To pay my early sacrifice, 
And make my earnest plea, 
And when, amid my worldly rare, 
I lift my heart in silent prayer, 
And to my God my Inirdens bear, 
Tiien 1 remember thee. 

" And when at noontide I retire. 
To breathe in secret my desire. 
That I may more and more aspire 
For holiness and love; 
Then do I plead that thou mayst know, 
"While wand'ring in this vale of woe. 
The pare exalted joys that flow 
From intercourse above. 

" And when I ' steal awhile away,' 
From ' cumbering care' at • closing day,* 
Thankful for mercies past — to pray 
That blessings new he given ; 
Then do I supplicate for thee, 
That thou muyst labour fiiitlifully, 
And live alone to God, — and be 
Prepared for bliss in iieaven. 

" And when, at midnight's solemn hour. 
On faith's strong pinions borne, I soar 



201 

To realms on liigli — vvitli saints aiiore, 
Impatient to lay down 
This teneimrii of clay, and rise 
From earth's eiisiiiiriiig vanities, 
To join tlie ransom'd in ihe skies, 
And went their glorious crown ; 

" Then do I plead that those who here 
Are to my warm atTections dear, 
May meet me in that blessed sphere, 
And with the Saviour reign; 
Wiiere tlnougli the lapse of endless days, 
Harmonious voices we may raise. 
Not in weak prayer, but joyful praise. 
To Him for sinners slain." 

" New York, November, 7, 1835." 

Nov. 8, she writes to her sister. — •" I can only 
look at mercies on every side. My greatest trial is, 
that I feel no more gratitude, and do not make a more 
suitable return. God is indeed leading me in a path 
dubious to human vision ; but he has a good design 
concerning me, and will glorify himself whatever 
may be the result of all this training. Should I 
live, I hope I may never lose sight of a dying hour." 

Few subjects awakened more interest in the 
mind of Mrs. Taylor, during her protracted illness, 
than the importance of christians living near to God. 
Withdrawn from the world herself, she looked as 
from an elevated position on what was transpiring 
around her. She felt that the whole of life was 
compressed within a very narrow compass, that on 
tiie influence which the followers of Jesus exerted 
by the holiness of their lives, and their supreme de- 
votedness to spiritual things, the progress of religion 
in the community and the world essentially depended. 

I 2 



202 

*■ It cliristians,' she saitl, ' become secular in their feel-' 
iiiifs, en (grossed by the business and passing events 
ot the present life, how can they let tiieir light shine 
before men ? Must they not feel reproved by the 
question, — ' \\'hat do ye more than others?' If the 
Gospel is not at all times their standard of action they 
will be insensibly drawn into sinful compliances, — 
the life of reliirion will be lost. They may have a 
name among the living, but of every valuable pur- 
pose they will be dead." 

It was her daily prayer that the Lord would, in 
tender mercy, " cleanse and defend his church, and 
preserve it evermore by his help and goodness ;" that 
he would " grant his people grace to withstand the 
temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil : 
and with pure minds and hearts to follow Him, the 
only God, through Jesus Christ their Lord." Sha 
endeavoured to impress upon all with whom she con- 
versed, the necessity of greater conformity to the will 
of God, and increased efforts for the salvation of a 
world lying in wickedness. When her strength 
would admit the use of her pen, these subjects were 
urjred ii\ her letters. To Mrs. M., a christian friend, 
who manifested for her great sympathy, she thus 
writes. 

" Muiiday, ;;. »i., Dec. 7, 1^.S5. 

" To say that I was extremely gratified will not 
express what I felt as I read, again and again, your 
affectionate letter. It comforted me, and 1 could 
say with new confidence, ' I know that I love the 
children of God,' that I deliiiht in holdin(r inter- 
course with his people. It led nic to a train of thouglit 
which was encourajjinfr and streniithenint:. To be 



203 

assured tliat those who commune with Jesus, re- 
member me in their intercessions before the Mercy- 
seat, is always cheering to my heart. How precious 
the promise, ' the prayer of the righteous prevails 
with God ' ! 

" But I am a mystery to myself. Again I am 
gaining strength. My life may yet be prolonged. It 
is the desire of my heart to keep eternity and its rea- 
lities ever before me, — so to ' live as I shall wish 
I had done when I come to die.' 

" You, my dear friend, have the wisdom gained 
by experience ; will you then tell me why christians 
are so inconsistent ? Is it true that all human be- 
ings around us are immortal — that they are going 
rapidly forward to eternal happiness or endless misery.'' 
And is this life the only state of probation — the only 
time to secure the salvation of the undying spirit ^. 
Can we believe these things, and yet live as though 
they do not concern us ^. 

When I reflect on these subjects, I desire to make 
some ettort for the benefit of others, — to see chris- 
tians living less in conformity to the world, and thus 
removino- the ' stumblinjj blocks' which so often lie 
in the way to the unconverted. I feel that they 
ought to be, indeed and in truth, a separate people, 
known as such by their works and conversation. 

" Your obliged and affectionate JS. L. Taylor." 

She often alluded to the neglect of a suitable ob- 
servance of the Lord's day, — particularly by those 
who are called by the christian name, and commemo- 
rate the Saviour's dying love. Regarding such as 
designed, in an important sense, to be lights in the 



204. 

world, slic was grieved at witnessing an indifference 
to the cultivation of those fceHngs which the special 
consecration of" tlie d.iy demands. " How can they 
enjoy," she asked, " the services of the sanctuary, 
when, in their own homes, they converse about their 
worldly business, or the news of the day r* It seems 
to me that every indulgence of this kind serves to 
lower the standard of pictv, and to produce a state 
of feeling extremely unfavourable to the influence of 
the gospel. Are not six days in the week sufKcient for 
attention to temporal concerns ? Must the hallowed 
services of that day, which is an emblem of eternal 
rest, be desecrated by allowing the intrusion of uii- 
congenial subjects ? 

" 1 would not hurt the feelings of others, but I 
desire that all would lay this subject to heart, and 
ask themselves whether they honour God in a be- 
coming manner, when they allow their thoughts to 
be enlisted on this holy day, by those things which 
pertain to a fleeting world ? Some, no doubt, have 
inconsiderately fallen into the habit, or have indulged 
it on account of their associates. Is it right for them 
to keep up intercourse, particularly on Sunday, with 
those who are unwilling to converse on religious 
subjects, and have no relish for devout meditation ; 
or who spend their time in reading books of a secular 
character ?" 

These remarks were prompted by a strong desire 
that christians should do every thing to the glory of 
God. She knew from sad experience the temptations 
that surround their path, and wished to leave some 
testimony to which her friends might recur when 
she was gone, respecting the light in which this 



205 

subject appeared to her in the seclusion of a sick 
chamber. 

Affliction had made her intimately acquainted 
M'ith God, she trusted in him as a tender Father, 
and evinced the chiklhke spirit of one lon<T instructed 
in the school of Christ. The nearer she drew to 
the eternal world, the more her heart expanded witli 
love to the members of the human family. Her con- 
fidence in the efficacy ofprayer acquired fresh strengtli. 
All the christian graces were in lively exercise. She 
looked out from her clayey tenement with the eye of 
faith upon the unseen things of God's universal do- 
minion. To her enlarged and comprehensive vision 
the whole world seemed but a point. Yet she re- 
joiced in the thouglit, that here Jehovah had display- 
ed his effulgent glory. Here the Son of God be- 
came incarnate, — and here his precious blood was 
shed for the salvation of sinful men. 

While her thoughts soared to heaven, and her 
lieart bowed before the mediatorial throne, she looked 
down the vista of ages on earth, and beiicld by the 
light of revelation the events of predicted time. She 
saw the Gospel extending its sway from country to 
country, untill the whole world was converted unto 
God. " How glorious," she exclaimed, " will be 
that day, when the ' knowledge of the Lord shall 
cover the earth, as the waters cover the sea' — when 
streams of living water shall flow forth to every nation, 
making ' glad the city of God '! Who would not 
think it a privilege to live at such a period ? INlay 
we not, even in heaven, rejoice in the fulfilment 
of these prophecies ? li' there be joy in heaven when 
one sinner repenteth, who can describe the joy which 



200 

will fill the hearts of the redeemed, when, by the 
preaching of the Gospel, whole nations shall repent 
and turn to God ? Ought any to be deterred, through 
fear of personal sacrifice or sufferings, from contri- 
buting some humble part to the production of so 
blessed a result ?" 

I have listened with silent astonishment to the 
outpourings of her heart on this noble theme. Never 
was eloquence more touching. Often have I wished 
that those who hesitate respecting their obligation 
to aid in sending the Gospel to pagan lands, might 
view the subject as it arose before her during the 
last year of her pilgrimage. Could they realize the 
influence of a just apprehension of the duty upon 
their own religious character, all doubts would be re- 
moved. It is impossible to dwell on the revealed 
will of Jehovah respecting heathen nations, and enter 
fully into the spirit of the missionary enterprise, with- 
out feeling a mors affectionate interest in the welfare 
of all the members of the human family. The de- 
light in every department of christian duty will be 
increased. Faith will take a firmer hold of the 
promises. The unhallowed effect of secular pursuits 
will be diminished. The heart will be drawn out in 
fervent prayer, that " the kingdoms of the world may 
become the kingdoms of our Lord," that the Gentile 
nations may " be brought home with the remnant of 
the true Israelites, and made one fold under one 
shepherd." 

Writing to a friend, who had under consideration 
the question of joining one of the mission stations 
among the Indians, she remarks, — " I do at times 
feel that it is of little moment to the real disciple of 



207 

the Lord Jesus in what part ot 'this dim speck 
which men call earth,' he spends his transient lite. 
If he but live to God, his warfare is soon ended, and 
his crown given. Situated as you arc, you may be 
very uselul, and ought to rejoice in the privilege of 
sowing good seed in tender minds, vvhici) may bring 
forth fruit to the glory of God. 

" May your efforts to do good be increased, and 
abundantly blessed, till your labours and prayers shall 
give place to joy and praise, in the immediate presence 
of God and the Lamb." 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Christian Cliaracter as seen the last year of her life — Cireulation 
of Tracts— Foretaste of the Happiness of the Redeemed— Death 
of her Sister i\Iary — Lines addressed to her eldest Son — To 
lier youngest Son on his Birthday — To her adopted Daughter 
— Parental Solicitude — Unity of Sunday Schools. 

On the 1st of January, 1836, Mrs. Taylor thus 
writes to her sister. " Two months ago, I did not 
expect to be here now. When I review all the way 
that God hath led me, ray heart is full. How an- 
other year may close with me 1 cannot tell. I would 
leave all with him, who has ever dealt kindly with 
me, and whose promises never fail. I find comfort in 
reflecting that as a father pitieth his children so the 
Lord pitieth them that fear him. He knoweth our 
frame, he remembereth we are but dust. Amidst 
these bodily ills, it is pleasant to think the period 
near when, released from all the hindcranccs of mor- 



203 

tality, I too, through grace, ricli, free, and unme- 
rited grace, may sing the song of victory, and go 
out from the immediate presence of God no more 
for ever." 

In this lovely frame of mind, she entered on tlie 
last year of her life. While she lingered here, the 
desire to advance the kingdom of Christ prevailed 
over every other. Her daily walk afforded a beau- 
tiful illustration of the spirit of the })etition — "Thy 
kingdom come." Though deprived for many months 
of intercourse with others, except in her own cham- 
ber; yet all who were admitted to this consecrated 
apartment, felt that it was indeed a Bethel. They 
saw a delightful exhibition of the christian charac- 
ter, and seemed to breathe a new and heavenly atmos- 
phere, often retiring with the strong assurance, that 
such a scene was enough to melt the heart of the 
stoutest opposcr of the Gospel. They beheld in her 
a combination of grace, dignity, and loveliness. Every 
feature had received the softening touches of a mas- 
ter's hand. Qualities in themselves attractive, and 
blended together in admirable proportion, had been 
thoroughly embued with a sanctifying influence. 
Her ever-speaking eye riveted attention, while her 
beaming countenance seemed irradiated with celes- 
tial hght. Her sweetly-flowing periods charmed 
the ear, and the spirit that pervaded them reached 
the heart. No subject could be introduced, per- 
taining to the welfare of the immortal soul, of which 
she did not evince a deep and practical knowledge. 

The chief regret of the writer is, that so few of 
her remarks liave been transferred to paper, and those 
few so inadequate to convey a just idea of the im- 



909 

prcssioii produced. The train of reflection slie 
excited was too absorbing for the langua<j;e to be 
remembered in which her sentiments were clothed. 

In an early period of her relii^ious history, she 
become convinced of the great benefit to be derived 
from the circulation of religious tracts. These 
"uinjTed messen<fcrs" often enlist the feelintjs of 
those who would not think of sitting down to a 
larger work. Important subjects arc presented be- 
fore the mind, access is gained to the heart. Allud- 
ing to some of the effects she had witnessed, Mrs. 
Taylor remarked, " How evidently we see the hand 
of God in leading his people to adopt this mode of 
bringing religious truth to bear upon the thoughtless. 
I have seen an individual vvceping over the pages of 
a tract, who had never before listened to serious con- 
versation. This person was induced to attend pub- 
lic worship, and brought into the fold of Christ ; 
giving gratifying evidence of a change of heart. In 
my visits among the destitute and afflicted, some aids 
of this kind were almost indispensable. They often 
suggested topics for remark, enabled me more readliy 
to gain attention, and, in several instances, I trust, 
to make a salutary impression. If christians would 
always keep on hand, books and tracts, adapted to 
the condition of those with whom they have inter- 
course, they might employ them in a profitable man- 
ner." 

Mrs. Taylor took pleasure in practising what she 
recommended. No person could be long in her 
society without receiving the kind offer of a book 
or tract for perusal. In this way she was instru- 
mental in diffusing an excellent spirit around her. 



210 

Those whom she had occasion to employ in any 
little services, were sure to be remembered. She 
would sometimes say, " I cannot talk much now ; 
this book will remind you of many things of inesti- 
mable value. Pray to God that he wiJl make it a 
blessing to you." If the persons could not conve- 
niently find time to read a larger work, one of her 
small tokens of love would be presented, with the 
request, that they would "read it with prayer, and 
think of what it contained." 

The history of Mrs. Taylor from this period is 
associated with few events on which it is necessary 
to dwell. Too feeble to see much company, she en- 
joyed peculiar facilities for that intercourse in which 
she so much delighted — communion with God. The 
result was seen in the elevated and heavenly feelings 
by which she was animated. She ever spoke with 
gratitude of the mercies she experienced, and of the 
preciousness of the love of God her Saviour. " How," 
she says, " could I have passed through these trying 
scenes, if the Lord had not been my ever-present 
help ! He deals with me so gently, and orders all 
my ways in so kind a manner, that 1 can never cease 
speaking forth his praises. Once I should have 
thought it impossible, that I could have endured tlie 
sufferings and conflicts of the past year; now I won- 
der my heart does not always rise in gratitude. The 
design of God in these afflictions is so evident, I de- 
sire continually to magnify his goodness. Blessed 
be his name, that he has had compassion upon me, 
and permitted me to rejoice in hope of eternal bles- 
sedness. This morninff 1 had a deli'^htful foretaste 
oi' the happiness of the redeemed. The world and 



211 

all its concerns receded from my view. Oh, for 
more holy love, for a more contrite spirit." 

These rich consolations were admirably adapted 
to preserve her from that depression of feeling,', to 
wiiich at times one of her temperament was liable. 
The power of Divine grace triumphed over every 
obstacle. Each new affliction rendered more ap- 
parent the strength of her faith, and ripened her for 
everlasting habitations. Her sympathies about this 
time were enlisted in behalf of her eldest sister. 
This sister on a former occasion,* watched by her 
side during a long sickness, and contributed essen- 
tially to her comfort. Now the hand of disease 
pressed heavily upon her — her days on earth were 
nearly numbered. Mrs. Taylor would fain have 
gone to her relief, and administered the balra of 
heavenly consolation. Denied the enjoyment of this 
privilege, she traced with her pencil, the thoughts 
which kindness and experience suggested. Mary 
was not insensible to her affection, or her anxiety 
to know the state of her soul at this critical period. 
To the inquiry " How does the Saviour now appear 
to you ?" she replied, " He is my only hope. I fully 
realize, that nothing short of a firm reliance on his 
atoning sacrifice can support me in the approaching 
conflict. Jesus is my all. Pray for me that ray faith 
fail not." A friend who was with her writes: "She 
was composed, as her last hour drew near, and ex- 
perienced the consolation of the religion she professed. 
She died at her father's house, after a lingering ill- 
ness, Feb. 7, 1836." 

All a mother's sensibilites were awakened by the 
• See p. 15a. 



213 

sliijlitcst allusion to licr children. She made a fur- 
ther effort to testify her anxious solicitude, hoping, 
the time might come, when they would appreciate 
her feelings, and choose for themselves the path 
which she had marked out for them. To her eldest 
son, then about three years old, she addressed the 
followinij touchin<; lines. 

" To Cornelius Stewart I'aylor, 

" VVlieii first u[)oii lliy tiny cheek my lips with joy were press'd, 
And a mother's deep and changeless love first fill'd this throh- 

bing breast, 
E'en then J prayed, that He who eall'd thy being into birth 
Might seal thee his in infancy, to serve him while on earth. 

" And when, at midnii^lu's solemn hour, we watch'd thy strug- 
gling breath. 
While cold ujjon thy infant brow seem'd laid the hand of death, 
And there, in blest I)aptismal rite, we otfer'd thee to God, 
I pray'd, Lord, let hicn live to thee ! and he removed the rod. 

"And still I pray. Lord, seal him thine, Lord, help him live to 

thee! 
liut soon this heart, now fillM witii Ciire, will from all care be 

free, 
Soon shall this prison'd spirit rise, upon my God lo puze, 
AVhere faitli is clianged to cheering sight, mid prayer to ceaseless 

praise. 

" Sarah Louisa Taylor. 

Her youngest son received a similar token of her 
affectionate regard, on the first anniversary of his 
natal day. It was written in a Bible, presented to 
him by the beloved friend after whom he was called. 



213 



" To George Tracy Taylor. 

«' I\Iy son, a triendly hand has traced 
Thy name in this blest hook ; 
Oil may it stand there, uneffiued!— 
And it thou e'er slialt look 

" Upon this page, when he who gave 
This best of fjifts to thee 
Is sleeping in the silent grave, 
Think what thy course should be ! 

"Shall he whose name is thine to bear 
Be hononr'd by iny son ? 
Wilt tiiou not strive, by laith and prayer, 
The christian race to run? 

" Wilt thou not make this book thy guide 
E'en from thy earliest youth, 
That God may o'er thy ways preside, 
And lead thee by his truth ? 

"Then tlu- blest I.amb, thy precious name, 
In life's fair book will trace. 
And thou shalt all his love proclaim — 
A monument of grace. 

" Sauah Louisa Taylor. 

•' Feb. 15, 183G." 

Mrs. Taylor was ever mindful of her little orphan, 
and wished to make such an impression on her mind 
as would never be effaced. While time rolled on, 
and the end of her probation drew near, she gathered 
strength, to sketch with her pencil a few lines, as 
an additional memento of her love, when the grave 
should close over her. They were never finished. 
Breaking off abruptly, they seem like the remains of 



214 

a fallen column. Some opiiiion may be formed of 
the design from the frafjmciit preserved. 

"My dear child, — You are yet a 'little one,' 
but God has already marked your course with strik- 
inir chanrres and bereavements, afflictions and mercies. 
Your own father you never knew, and while an infant, 
you wept in anguish, because your dear mother was 
called to heaven. Many little children thus left are 
cast ' orphans indeed ' upon the world. But your 
heavenly Father raised up those who have endea- 
voured to discharge the duty of parents towards you. 
We have numbered you with our other dear ones, 
and with them you have shared our warmest affection. 
Now, my dear Sarah, God, in his infinite wisdom, 
seems about to remove me from you — again to leave 
you motherless, ere you can fully appreciate a mo- 
ther's love or solicitude. The time may come, when 
you will know your loss. Never, unless placed by 
divine Providence in similar circumstances, can you 
imagine what a trial this anticipated separation from 
you has been. God, however, has enabled me to re- 
sign you to his keeping. 

" My dear child, make the Lord your trust, com- 
mit your way to him, and he will direct your steps. 
Think nothing too trifling to be laid before him. You 
have been accustomed to make known your griefs 
and troubles to me; go to your heavenly Parent 
with still stronger confidence. Spread before him 
all your sins and cares. Do this daily. Live much 
in prayer. Be assured, prayer is your greatest safe- 
uard against sin and temptation." * * * 

The feelings of Mrs. Taylor, when she thought 
of her children, were those of a christian parent. 



215 

She believed that God entrusted them to her care, 
for the glorious purpose of training them up, while 
on earth, in such a manner, that, hereafter, they 
might enjoy him for ever. She felt that no subject 
could be selected, within the range of social duties, 
possessing higher claims to devout observance. The 
obligation is apparent, and irresistible. It can 
scarcely be urged without receiving the spontaneous 
acknowledgment of every heart. When the parent 
fixes his eye upon his child, the thought is suggested 
that within the frail clayey tenement is an immortal 
soul, whose destiny, through eternal ages, may be at 
his disposal. Shall that child be left untutored, to 
the chilling and polluting influence of a world lying 
in wickedness ; or be instructed in Divine truth, and 
warmed by the genial beams of the Sun of righteous- 
ness ? 

Mrs. Taylor spoke and acted with these senti- 
ments indelibly impressed on her mind. She knew 
that children were affected by every object around 
them. The works of nature, and the employments 
of society, greet their eyes, but their hearts are sof- 
tened by a mother's tear. They are excited by the 
sufferings of others, even before they know the cause 
of those sufferings. Who gave them this suscepti- 
bility but the former of their bodies and the Fa- 
ther of their spirits? To parents, in their behalf, 
the appeal is addressed, — Will you lead their affec- 
tions to an ever-during object, or suffer them to rest 
on something that will quickly decay? You highly 
value their regard, but shall they love you only, you 
who cannot sustain them long? What shall employ 
their thougjits, and receive the warm current of their 



216 

feelings when you are slumbering in the dust? In 
whose bosoms shall they then repose? You cannot 
alloA'iate their sorrow, — shall they have none to whom 
thev can ffo ? 

Who will be surprised at the anxiety of a pious 
mother ! She is preparing to bid adieu to the things 
of earth. Her children are far away. The sounds 
of her voice fall no more upon their ears. All that 
she can do is to awaken others to a just conception 
of parental responsibility, to induce them, if possible, 
to remit no exertion, while health remains, and their 
tender offspring are by their side, to prepare them 
for future glory. 

She had long been convinced th.it the youthful 
mind might receive a decidedly religious impression, 
at the earliest development of moral powers. " It 
is inconceivable," she would say, "to tiiose who have 
not given the subject serious reflection, how much 
time is usually lost by not beginning in season to 
guide their thoughts in a suitable channel. They 
are formed by God to hear religion's solemn voice. 
The Holy Spirit hovers over them, gently moves 
their affections, and often sanctifies the heart before 
even their teachers suspect his influence. The con- 
science is then tender, and sometimes tremblingly 
alive to whatever is supposed to be wrong, or incon- 
sistent with God's holy laws. If parents and reli- 
gious friends would watch with assiduous care over 
their infantile years, and lead them to the throne of 
grace, they might have the unspeakable satisfaction 
of seeing them walk in the paths of wisdom and 
holiness. 

"Who that realizes, that infancy is the spring- 



217 

tide of being, the seed time of eternal being, can suf- 
fer himself to remain inactive ? Then there is a vir- 
gin freshness and romantic novelty in knowledge 
received, which compensates, by a deeper effect, for 
its smaller sphere. Then the heart is comparatively 
without guile, ever open, unsuspecting, confiding, 
tender. A year lost here may cast a shadow on all 
future life. This is the hour of danger, this the 
power of darkness. While we are sleeping, sus- 
pecting no evil, and waiting for the heart to open, 
the hand of the enemy is, with busy and fatal skill, 
silently and profusely scattering the tares. Let us 
no lonjrer allow this most mali<rnant foe to jrain the 
advantage; but, as far as we may, let us preoccupy 
the field, and grapple with him for the prize, on 
terms that are less unequal." 

By a person cherishing such views, Sunday schools 
could not fail to be highly appreciated. Mrs. Taylor 
knew their value. Her earliest serious impressions 
were produced there. The holiest energies of her 
mind had been exerted there. She loved to think 
of them as a blessed mean of brinfrinfr the m-eat 

o o o 

doctrines of the Bible to bear on the heart and con- 
science of the young. 

Her sympathies were awakened for the teachers 
in these schools ; and her prayers ascended to Hea- 
ven, that they might faithfully perform their duties. 
She would say to them : " In no employment will 
you experience, in your own hearts, a more abundant 
reward. Those children may be your hope and joy, 
and the crown of your rejoicing, in the presence of 
the Lord Jesus. You have the exalted privilege of 
pointing accountable beings to the Lamb of God, 
K 63 



218 

who taketh away the sins of the world. They will 
be grateful for your labours, when they see your 
devotedness and assiduity in their behalf; and when 
the song of praise shall flow from their lips, and 
they shall magnify the riches of redeeming grace, 
they will not forget the humble instruments by whom 
these glorious truths were impressed upon their 
minds." 

It has been publicly stated that, "of all the mis- 
sionaries from Great Britain to heathen lands, nine- 
teen out of every twenty received their first religious 
impressions at Sunday schools; and of the most 
devoted ministers in England, under forty years of 
age, more than two thirds became pious at these 
schools." Mrs. Taylor frequently alluded to the 
enjoyment they had afforded her. " There are," 
she said, " few portions of my life, to which I recur 
with greater interest, than the time employed in 
teaching my Sunday scholars. I felt that I was 
labouring for God, and though sensible of much 
infirmity, had great reason for thankfulness." 



CHAPTER XV. 

Power of the Gospel — Deep interest in the Condition of the Sick 
and Necessitous — Special instance of the benign Effect o( Re- 
ligion — Mrs. Taylor's last Letter from New York — Departure 
from the City — Comfortable situation with her Relatives — 
■fclevated state of her Affections — Closing scene — Letter from 
Rev. A. L. 

It would be difficult to say, whether Mrs. Taylor 



219 

most excelled in the clearness of her conceptions of 
divine truth, or in the happy manner by which she 
illustrated its power in her life. Her mental facul- 
ties retained their vigour, when her sufferings were 
the most acute. She looked upon the great themes 
of rclio"ion with a glow of zeal and devotion that 
threw a charm around whatever fell from her lips. 
She usually waited for others to touch the chord, but 
when touched, she was sure to respond with a most 
delightful and animating spirit. Truths long fami- 
liar, appeared in a new light, being associated with 
the practical influence they produced. There was 
no mere abstract statement ; — all was vivid. You 
felt that the Gospel exerts a life-giving efficacy, that 
such as yield to its sway enjoy a happiness to which 
the rest of mankind are strangers. 

Those who have experienced the tediousness of a 
long confinement know the exertions that are requi- 
site to keep the mind profitably employed. The 
kindness of friends may be appreciated, and the heart 
thankful for favours received ; yet seasons will recur, 
in which, without the aid of Divine grace, to coun- 
teract the tendency, it will prey upon itself. The 
imagination will indulge in sickly fancies, and the 
suiJerers become a trial to all their attendants. Could 
such be induced to look to Jesus, the author and 
finisher of their faith, and trace the merciful dealings 
of Jehovah, their own enjoyment and the comfort 
of their friends would be increased. God docs not 
send afflictions in vain, nor does he design that we 
should be unafiected by them. The christian wishes 
to regard them as a token of Divine compassion — an 
additional incentive to live above the world, and be 



220 

zealous in tlie promotion of glorious objects. All 
arc subject to tbcse trying allotments, and should be 
making preparation against them, that they may be 
bj)rne with a submissive and cheerful spirit. 

The friends of Mrs. Taylor had peculiar cause 
for thankfulness, in the calm and subdued tone of 
her feelings, and the support that she found on the 
occurrence of severe trials. Nothini; seemed to take 
lier unawares. If her days had been devoted to the 
acquisition of the graces of humility and submission, 
their exercise would scarcely have appeared more 
easy and natural. She had her own predilections, 
her wishes respecting particular things; but all i)cr 
desires were cherished in subordination to the will of 
Jehovah. 

While maintaining communion with her God and 
Saviour, and meditating on the heavenly rest, she 
did not forget the objects of compassion around her. 
Her heart bled for human woe. The necessitous, 
the infirm, and the sick, were much in her thoughts 
and shared largely in her prayers. Whatever an 
invalid could do for their relief, she was prompt to 
perform ; and ever solicitous to learn their situation 
from those whom Providence had sent amongst them. 
Her thoughts were far from resting exclusively on 
earthly misery. She lincw there was a greater 
calamity than the mere pressure of want, or physical 
suffering — the dreadful malady of sin. 

No intelligence could be more cheering to her 
than that some prodigal had returned to his Father's 
house; some child of wretchedness and sorrow had 
been released from his most oppressive burden, by 
humble trust in the Saviour. If she had visited the 



221 

sick herself, and watched from day to day the influ- 
ence of Divine truth upon them, her feeUngs could 
not have been more deeply enlisted in their condition. 
I shall not soon forget her solicitude for several, 
then more immediately under my care. One of them 
is now in the enjoyment of comfortable health, and 
recurs to that visitation, as a season in which the 
Lord mercifully lifted upon her the light of his coun- 
tenance, and imparted the rich consolation of his 
grace. Another, in whose situation Mrs. Taylor 
felt a special interest, had been nurtured by a pious 
mother, in the morning of life deeply impressed with 
sacred obligations, and for a time regarded by his 
friends, as promising fair to be an ornament to the 
religion of Jesus. These early indications of pre- 
cious fruit entirely vanished. The snares and 
temptations of a guilty w orld, prevailed over a young 
and inexperienced mind, and drew him into those 
labyrinths of vice and error from which it appears 
a miracle of mercy if any are reclaimed. The moni- 
tions of his conscience were not immediately silenced ; 
but having commenced a downward course, he re- 
quired more than an earthly power to arrest his pro- 
gress, and induce him to retrace his steps. There 
were seasons, he said, (before he had proceeded long 
in an abandoned career,) after a night spent in tiie 
society of the dissolute, when his soul was harrowed 
up with remorse, and he seemed to feel a hell within 
him : but a repetition of similar indulgences blunted 
his sensibilities, hardened his heart, and rendered 
him nearly past feeling. The house of prayer was 
deserted, the society of the religious avoided, and 
every thing done that the heart of man could devise 
to remove all thoughts of God and eternity. 



222 

In this situation the hand of the AlmiL^'ty was 
Jaid upon him. He was attacked witli the disease 
that terminated his days. It became too evident, 
{^r him to be insensible of the fact, that his strength 
was wasting away, the seat of hfe invaded, and that 
at no distant period his earthly course would be fin- 
ished. Unable to engage in his usual employment, 
with little to divert his mind, he began to reflect on 
the manner in which he had squandered his most 
valuable years. The awakened emotions were pain- 
ful ; he feared that he had sinned away the day of 
grace, and that the darkness of eternal night was 
Ijatherinff around him. Beloved connexions were 
by his side, administering to his wants, and doing 
whatever their anxious solicitude prompted for the 
relief of his sufferings. But of his inward grief he 
had maintained the most perfect silence. There 
were feelings pent up within, that wanted vent ; a 
heart oppressed with sin and sadness, that had neither 
unbosomed itself to God nor man. His friends had 
even feared that the visit of a clergyman would be 
unwelcome, and all inquiries of a religious nature 
repelled. 

It was entrusted to the writer to break this omin- 
ous silence on an all-important subject. At my first 
interview he was alone, seated in his chair, with a 
countenance indicating that he was familiar with the 
deeper shades of human woe. I soon perceived that, 
in one particular, the fears of his friends were un- 
founded. There was a chord in his heart that had 
not ceased to vibrate when his relation to God and 
another world was suggested. Though he had 
wandered like the prodigal from his father's house, 



9.0' 



the Holy Spirit still lingered around his tabernacle. 
The claims of reliijion to his immediate rcffard were 
presented. The accents of mercy, proclaimed by 
the cross of Jesus, touched his heart; his sins were 
confessed with the incrcnuousness of a child. lu- 
stead of avoiding the company of the religious, from 
this time, he wished to seclude himself as much 
as possible from intercourse with all others. In his 
extremity he turned to the Lord, with earnest prayer, 
and pled for mercy on his guilty soul. The Bible 
was again opened; and became his constant com- 
panion. 

His affections also yearned towards a beloved 
mother. He recurred to the instructions of child- 
hood — thought of her solicitude for him in his wan- 
derings ; and the many things, contained in her let- 
ters, which had been passed over without reading. 
Desirous of making her acquainted with his situa- 
tion, and receiving from her such counsel as her 
experience might suggest, he resumed his pen, and 
after repeated efforts, for several days, succeeded in 
conveying to her the emotions of his heart. His 
mother, however, had not forgotten him. The in- 
telligence of his sickness had reached her, and be- 
fore she had received his letter, he was truly made 
glad, by a further token of maternal regard, in her 
well known hand, containing a full impress of her 
feelings and anxiety. The afflicted son was melted 
into contrition. His mother had been praying for 
him, when he thought not of it : she now pled with 
him, as on the borders of another world, to be re- 
conciled to God. His sorrow for sin became deep 
and pungent. Aroused by a more full and clear 



221. 

viuw of the Gospel plan of salvation, he cast himself 
upon the Saviour, and embraced with faith the pre- 
cious promises. Tlie remainder of his days was 
cheered by that hope which is as an anchur to the 
soul, sure and steadfast. 

One more scene must be noted, for next to that 
in which his spirit took its flight for a better world, it 
was the most solemn and affecting. He desired to 
commemorate the dying love of Jesus. A few 
chosen friends gathered around, and united with him. 
Rarely has a sick chamber produced more vivid and 
thrilling sensations than when the penitent sufferer 
received tlie holy sacrament. His countenance 
ijlowed with unusual brightness. That little circle 
deeply felt that, as it was the first time, so it might 
be, it probably would be the last in which they should 
all, on tliis side the grave, enjoy together so glorious 
a privilege. Alluding to the occasion, he subse- 
quently remarked, " That day seemed to me a hea- 
ven upon earth." 

Pointing to his bible he observed, " For many 
years this was a neglected book, now it is my chief 
delight." The 51st Psalm, in particular, was often 
wet with his tears. The last sentence he uttered, 
with an audible voice, was sweetly indicative of the 
state of his affections, "Jesus is precious." 

When the mild weather of spring approached, it 
was deemed expedient that Mrs. Taylor should be 
removed to the country. Her inclinations, as might 
be expected, were to her native state. While it 
remained uncertain what course would eventually be 
adopted, she indulged the hope of iiaving her only 
surviving sister, to spend some time with her in th« 



225 

city ; yet slie rejoiced in having all her concerns in 
better hands than those of feeble mortals. A few 
extracts from a letter to this sister, written at different 
times as her strength would allow, will present a clear 
view of her fcelinjis and wishes. 

" New York, March 15, 183G. 
" My dear Sister, — I am becoming more feeble, 
and my cough is very troublesome. It has been 
your allotment to watch by Mary and Jerusha, to 
comfort them in their sufferings, and receive their 
last message. Will you come and perform the same 
kind offices for me? I need constant care, and feel 
myself sinking down to the grave. Yet I do not de- 
sire you to leave home, unless you can do it without 
anxiety respecting those that remain. Miss C. is 
very kind, and often reminds me of you ; but it will 
be impossible for her to continue with me much 
longer. I have unnumbered daily -mercies. Give 
my tenderest love to our father and mother. 

" March 30. 

" My physician consents to my going home, as 
soon as the weather will admit of my removal. 
Should I live till that time, your wishes and my own 
will be gratified. I receive much kindness, have 
many friends, and enjoy numerous blessings here ; 
but I wish to go home, and die with those whose 
affection has been unchanged from infancy till the 
present. I desire to bless God for the way in which 
he has led me. There was a time when 1 shrunk 
from the thought of protracted suffering. It is not 
so now. I have had bitter feelings, when realising 
i. 2 



226 

tliat my children are mine no more; — now, thouf^h I 
weep at the remembrance of them, and would fain, 
once again, clasp them in my arms and bless them ; 
yet I cheerfully resign them, soul and body, to Him 
who is able and willing to keep that which is com- 
mitted to his care. The cup that my heavenly 
Father hath given me, shall I not drink it ? These 
trials may well be called ' light afflictions,' if thev 
only produce in me the fruit of righteousness. 

"' Wliy should I shrink from death, — from early death ! 

Since dying is the entrance to that world, 

Where death, sad spoiler of all human hopes, 

Hath no more sway! His dread dominion ends, 

When this frail tabernacle is put off — 

Is ievel'd with its low original. 

The dust !' 

" Your affectionate sister, Sarah." 

At this period Mrs. Taylor presented a beautiful 
illustration of the christian character, in full symme- 
try and proportion. She had for a long time been 
in constant preparation for death, waiting patientiv 
the will of her divine Master. There were no ex- 
travagant flights of fancy — all was placid, serene as a 
summer's morning. Affliction had so chastened her 
soul that she regarded all events in reference to their 
bearing to another world. The same spirit which 
conducted her from the darkness of nature to the 
light of the everlasting gospel was still with her, 
purifying her desires, giving vigour to her faith, and 
producing holy acquiescence in the dispensations of 
Jehovah. 

For months, the change in her health had been 



227 

so gradual as scarcely to be apparent. When the 
time assigned for her removal approached, she main- 
tained the entire command of her feehngs, and made 
the requisite preparation for the journey, with the 
same humble reHance upon God for which she had 
previously been distinguislied. Considering these 
afflictive allotments as a part of the discipline of her 
heavenly Father, she passed through them, in the 
comforting enjoyment of the Divine promises. 

My last interview with her, in the hallowed apart- 
ment to which she had long been confined, was on 
the 22d of April. Never had greater uncertainty 
rested on the future. For aught that appeared, she 
might again be restored to improved health, or sud- 
denly removed from earthly trials. Our conversa- 
tion turned chiefly upon the subject of death. It 
was one familiar to Mrs. Taylor and in which she 
engaged with the liveliest interest. The state of her 
mind was evidently that which is produced by sanc- 
tified afflictions. She dwelt much on the compas- 
sion of the Saviour, and the comfort to be derived 
from the thought of meeting him in glory, and en- 
joying him for ever. Her afiections were immova- 
bly fixed upon the only sure foundation of human 
hope. 

April 15th, the day appointed for her removal from 
the city, dawned upon her with thrilling interest, yit 
her feelings were controled by the great Regulator 
of human actions. Five years had elapsed that day 
since her public recognition of the vows of the chris- 
tian covenant. She was now to take leave of scenes 
endeared to her heart by associations the most power- 
ful and touching. Officious memory recurred to the 



228 

past, and rendered it all vivid before her; but her 
strength failed not, the benign influence of the Gospel 
was sweetly exhibited. 

On arriving at the boat which was to bear her 
away from these consecrated places, no agitation was 
visible in her countenance; assisted to the cabin by 
iier friends, she resumed her couch with the most 
perfect tranquility. That she felt most deeply, none 
who knew her could doubt ; by the aid of Divine 
grace, she raised her thoughts above all sublunary 
things, and meditated on the track of the soul through 
boundless space to realms of ineffable purity. This 
was to her a part, and the concluding part, of the 
voyage of life. It contained many traces of former 
days, when different feelings swayed her breast, and 
before the graces of the Gospel had been so strikingly 
displayed. The passage through the Sound had 
often been sketched by her own hand. All the 
features of the surrounding landscape were fresh in 
her recollection. While time had produced changes 
in her, the face of nature remained the same. She 
realized the truth of the sentiment : 

" God is ever present, ever felt, 

III the void waste, as in the city full ; 

And where he vital breathes there must be joy." 

During the night her distress was so great from 
sea sickness as to render it doubtful whether she 
could continue till morning. Her friends assembled 
around her, with the painful expectation that each 
breath would be her last. The Lord mercifully in- 
terposed, and, by a kind providence, conducted her 
to the place of her destination. At an early hour 



229 

she was landed at her fatlicr's in Middle Haddam, 
and though much exhausted, truly thankful for the 
watchful care of the great Shepherd. 

Mrs. Taylor considered it an unspeakable privi- 
lege to be once more encircled by those dear friends, 
" whose affection for her," to adopt her own language, 
" had been unchanged from infancy to the present 
moment," nor did they place a less value upon the 
privilege of watching over her, and administering to 
her wants. Nothing was left undone that could 
alleviate her pain or render the concluding days of 
her pilgrimage comfortable and happy. For a time 
she gathered fresh strength : it seemed not improba- 
ble that her life might be prolonged. At this sea- 
son of the year, all nature was reviving, she sympa- 
thised with it, and appeared to feel the influence of 
the same vivifying power. A few lines are lying 
before me, written with a pencil on the Mth ot 
May, showing her sensibility to the renovated ap- 
pearance around her, and her wish to console her 
absent friend. 

" The country is beautiful : all speak of God but 
those to whom he has given the faculty of speech. 
The trees are in bloom ; every thing seems full ot 
life and loveliness. In reference to your lonely situa- 
tion, I need not say how joyfully I would be with 
you, and administer those domestic comforts which 
constitute the sweets of the earth. My prayer is. 
Lord, raise me not from this bed of sickness, unless 
to be specially useful. Let us remember that, 
however trying or mysterious the dispensations ot 
Providence now appear, all will be made plain here- 
after. 

" The blessing of the Lord be yours, Sarah." 



2o0 

Only a few weeks elapsed before all were con- 
vinced that her disease was too firmly seated to yield 
to human skill. Her sufferings were at times very 
acute, yet she was never heard to utter the language 
of complaint. She felt for her children all a mother's 
tenderness, but committed them with confidence to 
Him who could do far better for them than any earthly 
parent. With similar feelings she commended to his 
care, the little orphan, her adopted child ; earnestly 
beseeching the Lord to preserve her from the paths 
of sin. 

She was cheerful and happy in her greatest dis- 
tress : never troubling her friends with the recital of 
her sufferings. To their affectionate inquiries she 
usually replied. " I have nothing but mercies to 
speak of, blessings attend me on every side." The 
most triflling favour or attention called forth her grati- 
tude. At every allusion to her previous trials and 
sufferings, she spoke of the kindness she had re- 
ceived, and the comfort she had found in drawing 
near to God. Her strong affection for christian 
friends was clearly exhibited. Their presence and 
conversation were always animating. She dwelt with 
delight on the thought of their reunion in those blessed 
abodes where sin and sorrow will for ever be excluded. 

In the latter part of July, her strength failed ra- 
pidly. She fully believed that the hour of her re- 
lease was approaching. Her reliance upon an Ever- 
lasting Arm was brought to a new test ; and if for a 
moment a cloud flitted across her path, it seemed 
only to render more vivid the beams of celestial light 
and comfort, which the Lord imparted. On the 30th 
of July, the change in her symptoms was so strongly 



231 

marked that her husband was sent for. In the 
mean time her faith was unwavering, the promises of 
the Gospel seemed clothed with peculiar attractions. 
Monday afternoon, the 1st of August, the sun, after 
having been obscured by a dark cloud, burst forth 
with increased splendour. Her sister asked her if she 
saw the beautiful appearances. " Oh ! yes," she replied, 
" and just so I believe the Sun of righteousness 
will shine upon ray soul." This conviction was 
fully verified before her departure. Tuesday morn- 
ing she remarked, " I have a new assurance to-day. 
" All before me is luminous; what more can I desire?" 
Her husband beinor detained lonjjer than was an- 
ticipated, she had felt some solicitude, lest he should 
not arrive before the close of her life. The Lord 
graciously answered her request. He arrived in 
season to receive her last message, and witness the 
elevation of her faith. At her request the i4tii 
chapter of St. John's Gospel, and the third of his 
first Epistle were read, and prayers offered. She 
then took an affectionate leave of her relatives, be- 
seeching them all to live in continual preparation 
for a better world; — and spoke of the comfort of the 
believer in a dying hour, when supported by the 
Saviour's love. — " How often," she says," "I have 
repeated without suitable reflection :" 

" ' Jesus, Saviour of my soul, 
Let me to tliy bosom fly, 
While the waves of trouble roll, 
Wiiile the tempest still is high; 
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, 
Till the storm of life is past; 
Safe into the haven guide; 
O, receive my soul at last ! 



232 

" ' Other refuge have I none, 
Hangs my helpless suul on thee ; 
Leave, oh ! leave me not alone, 
Still support and comfort me ; 
Ail my trust on thee is stay'd, 
All my hope from thee I bring; 
Cover my defencele^^s head 
With the shadow of thy wing.' 

" Now I feel the sentiment, in all its strength and 
consolation. The everlasting arms of my Redeemer 
are underneath me ; ' Though I walk through the 
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil ; 
for thou art with me : thy rod and thy staff they 
comfort me.' " Alluding to her absent friends, she 
said, " Give my love to all, tell them Jesus is pre- 
cious." Turning to her husband, and looking him 

full in the face, she said, " My children," but 

was unable to proceed. These were her last words; 
— reclinin<r a<xain on the bed, she fell into a sweet 
sleep, and soon after awaking, about 1 o'clock p.m.^ 
Aug. 2, 1836, her immortal spirit was released from 
its frail tenement, and entered upon the enjoyment 
of eternal happiness. 

In conformity with a desire expressed during a 
former sickness,* Mrs. Taylor was interred along 
with her " dear kindred." The " passing traveler," 
who shall turn aside to meditate, will find in a se- 
cluded part of the yard, by the side of each other, 
the graves of the three sisters, with the " enduring 
marble" at the head of each, of equal height. Stand- 
ing by these affecting mementoes of the departed, he 
will have before him the same delightful prospect, 
concerning which the lamented James B. Taylor. 
• See page 15G. 



233 

remarked :* "The lover of scenery will never tire 
here, but always find enoui^h to feast his love of the 
beautiful, amid so much enchantments of nature." 

Here reposes all that was mortal of Sarah Louisa 
Taylor. But no dear connexions are now there to 
bedew her grave. That domestic circle she so fondly 
loved, has since her death removed to a distant part 
of the country. Yet strangers will visit the place, 
and while they pause in solemn thought, will raise to 
Heaven the prayer, that her spirit may be enkindled 
in many hearts. Even as they ascend the Connec- 
ticut, they will mark the spot, and call to mind the 
loveliness of her character, — the graces with which 
she was endowed. 

The testimony of a clergyman, residing in the 
vicinity of her father's, who visited her repeatedly, 
will form an interesting and appropriate conclusion 
to the present chapter. 

"xMiddle Haddam, Feb. 22. 1837. 

" Dear Sir, — To me it is matter of much regret 
that 1 did not more frequently commune with Mrs. Tay- 
lor, on those high and holy themes, which obviously 
occupied most of her thoughts, during her last ill- 
ness, and which imparted heavenly consolation and 
joy to her heart. I sincerely regret this, both because 
I cannot doubt that such christian intercouse would 
have been pleasant and refreshing to her, and because 
I am sure that the eloquence of her dying words 
would have been most instructive and profitable to me. 
Brief, however, as was my acquaintance with her, 
it will be long remembered with deep and melancholy 
interest. 

• See "A new Tribute to the memory of James Biainerd 
Taylor," p. 26i. 



234. 

" I shall not be able to relate particularly the con- 
versation which occurred between us, as I took no 
notes, and much of it has escaped from a too treach- 
erous memory. But while her words have passed 
away, the impressions which they made are deep and 
enduring. 

" Having incidentally alhided to her children, who 
were absent, and whom she never expected to see 
again in this world, I found that I had touched a 
tender chord, and regretted the indiscretion. She 
placed her emaciated and trembling hand over her 
eyes, as if to conceal a starting tear, and gather 
strength to repress the strong emotions which were 
rising in her bosom. 

" After a short pause, resuming her wonted calm- 
ness and composure, she said — ' I took a final leave 
of my children some months since. It is trying to 
a mother's heait — but I have given them up — I have 
committed them to the keeping of my heavenly 
Father. I have resigned those whom I most love 
on earth, and now I am willing to go whenever it 
shall please my Saviour to call me hence.' 

" I recited the following passage of the Psalmist ; 
— ' My flesh and my heart faileth : but God is the 
strength of my heart, and my portion for ever.' She 
said she had often meditated on that precious truth, 
and now, that she was placed upon a sick and dying 
bed, it afforded her unspeakable encouragement and 
consolation. — She conversed with great interest and 
animation on the sublime doctrine of the resurrection, 
and especially concerning Him who is ' the Resur- 
rection and the Life,' whom she evidently esteemed 
as the chiefest among ten thousand,' and on whose 
merits alone she depended for salvation. 



235 

" Having spoken in terms somewhat laudatory of 
tile spirit and style of a little book which lay upon 
the table before me, she replied, * Yes, it contains 
very many excellent and pious thoughts,' and then 
added an expression of regret, that it said little or 
nothing about the Holy Spirit, or the doctrine of Di- 
vine influence in connexion with religious experience. 
It struck me as being a very just criticism, and the 
few observations which she made in this connexion 
respecting the agency of the Holy Spirit, in the reno- 
vation and sanctification of the soul, were at once 
scriptural and edifying. 

" In her conversation and deportment, there was 
a manifestation of the most unaffected humility ; — 
there was evidence that she possessed some good 
measure of that feeling which prompted an apostle 
to exclaim ; — ' By the grace of God I am what I am ;' 
— there was an exemplification of that truly christian 
temper, which would abase self in the dust, and exalt 
God and his grace. 

" While sitting by her sick bed, listening to her 
pious discourse, her brightening countenance indi- 
cated that all within was peace, and her eye seemed 
to beam with immortal hope. 1 felt impressed with 
the conviction that a dying saint was there — one who 
had indeed been washed in the blood of the Lamb, 
and baptised by the Holy Ghost. I could not doubt 
that she was a disciple ; for as I looked upon her, I 
was sure I saw the Lord's image and superscription. 
She exhibited such specimens of christian feeling 
—such proofs of meekness and patience, calmness 
and resignation, faith and hope, as do strikingly and 
beautifully illustrate the redeeming efficacy, and the 



236 

transforming power of our holy religion. I felt the 
force of the poet's sentiment — 

" The chamber where the good man meets his fate, 

Is privileged beyond the common walk 

Of virtuous life, ([uite in the verge of heaven." 

" And she has gone. Consumption, that mighty 
destroyer, marked her as his victim, and no earthly 
power could save her from an early grave. Neither 
the skill of physicians, nor the tears of friends, nor 
the prayers of the pious, could avail to detain her on 
these mortal shores. They did what they could to 
prolong life — 

" ' But they sought to stay 

An angel on tiie earth, a spirit ripe 
For heaven.' 

" Your affectionate friend, 

" Stephen Alonso Lopeu." 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Review of Mrs. Taylor's Character — Qualities as a Teacher — 
Admiration of the Works of Nature — Fervour and consistency 
of her Piety and Friendship, by llev. C. H. — Letter from Dr. 
J. A. McV. — Hlm- Christian character, by llev. O. W — Tlie 
Mother taking leave of her Children, by W. C The Mission- 
ary's Prayer— Sketch in miniature— Conclusion. 

We have now traced some of the leading circum- 
stances, in the life and death of a beloved member 
of the christian fold. Much has been seen in her 
example, to awaken the slumbering energies of those 
who arc reposing in the field of labour, before their 
work is completed. In tiic early period of her chris- 



237 

tian course, tlie engrossing duties of a scliool were not 
permitted to divert her attention from the cultivation 
of personal religion. She loved the hour of retire- 
ment and prayer, and felt the necessity of keeping 
her own lamp trimmed and burning, in order to guide 
in a proper manner those who were entrusted to her 
cliarge. 

Her character, as a teacher, is beautifully deli- 
neated, by one who for years enjoyed her confidence 
and friendship, and was, for a short time, associated 
with her in the charge of a school. 

" As a teacher, Mrs. Taylor was pre^'minently 
successful. She loved mind, young, unprejudiced 
mind, and delighted to watch its expansion, and on 
each opening leaf, to stamp some impress, bright with 
promise of future usefulness and eternal glory. She 
was not of the number who bestow most labour on 
the fairest exterior, or the child whose parents stand 
highest in the scale of society. It was sufficient for 
her to know that there was a mind susceptible of cul- 
tivation, and all her energies were devoted to the work. 

" She deeply regretted the disposition mothers 
often manifest, to give their daughters a showy, su- 
perficial education, to the almost entire neglect oi 
solid branches. She would say, ' it is trifling with 
immortality, and sacrificing the powers which God 
has given for usefulness, to the opinion of a vain 
world ; my conscience condemns me, when I do not 
warn them of the danger of the course.' Were but 
a measure of Mrs. Taylor's spirit communicated to 
the female teachers of our country, we should soon 
have such a community of wives and mothers as 
would make our land a praise among all lands. 



238 

" Her mind shone with the greatest briUiancy, 
when with a friend she walked abroad to contemplate 
nature's works, and in them nature's God. She was 
a close observer, and discovered a thousand beauties, 
hidden from the common gaze ; and as she turned 
page after page of the great volume, would often 
exclaim, ' wisdom ! boundless, unerrinfj wisdom !' 
It was not the wild broken ledges, gasping chasms, 
and unceasing roar of the cataract of Passaic, or the 
lofty prominences, and stupendous pallisades of the 
far-famed Hudson alone which inspired her with 
feelings of adoration. She could contemplate the 
formation of an acorn, or the texture and tints of the 
humblest flower, untill her mind seemed filled with 
the infinitude of God's wisdom." 

Though the heart naturally seeks for some object 
to which it may cling, and around which it may en- 
twine, itself; yet on no object is caution more requi- 
site than in the selection of intimate friends. They 
will in an almost imperceptible manner, control our 
thoughts and affections, and become a part of ourselves. 
In this particular, Mrs. Taylor was peculiarly guarded. 
She highly appreciated that friendship which is based 
on christian principles, and availed herself of its ad- 
vantages, to strengthen her faith, and preserve her 
mind pure and unspotted from the world. 

Her uniform and consistent course forcibly recom- 
mended a life of piety. Those, destitute of the en- 
nobling spirit by which she was animated, beheld in 
her those endearing qualities which touch the sen- 
sibilities of the heart, and produce feelings of esteem 
and respect. These features of her character are 
clearly illustrated, in a letter from the Rev. Mr. He- 
quembourg to a friend in this city. 



239 

"Auburn, Dec. 23. 1836, 
"Dear Friend, — It afforded me no small pleasure 
to learn that a memoir of Mrs. Taylor was in pre- 
paration. To her many friends it will present a 
grateful method of renewing those agreeable hours 
which were passed in her society while she was living 
— to be again instructed and delighted by her intel- 
ligence, and to be quickened in our flagging zeal and 
drooping graces, by her ever-animated and glowing 
piety. 

" The memoir of such a woman must be not only in- 
teresting to her friends, who will embalm her in their 
memory, but useful and instructive to the public. 

" If it does not become us to eulogize the dead, it is 
certainly not piety to forget them. Even the pen 
of inspiration has not deemed it too humble a task, 
to record a memorial of the excellencies of the pious 
dead, for the imitation of future ages. Surely we 
may make known the worth of the departed, though 
we should not deify them, as is too often the case 
with our ' sense-taught affections,' as Young has it. 
Grace will chasten this natural instinct. Our hearts 
need not to buried in the graves of our friends. Our 
blessed Creator is the great Source of our happi- 
ness, and death must first rob us of him before it 
can seriously invade our joys. None of the rela- 
tions and circumstances in this life, which constitute 
our happiness, are independent of our heavenly Fa- 
ther; they are only means accorded by him for our 
enjoyment. When one source of happiness is with- 
drawn from us, are the riches of his goodness all 
expended ? How slow are our hearts in apprehending 
the delightful truth upon this subject ! At the same 



240 

time, a certain kind of love for the memory of de- 
parted excellence, is among the most holy and vene- 
rable feelings of our nature. And he who would 
forbid us to dwell upon the recollection of our 
friends, even though it be somewhat to the cxaiTiiera- 
tion of their worth, for it is the province of the heart 
to magnify what it loves, would rob us of one of the 
greatest sweeteners and solaces of our toilsome and 
embittered life ; and, I may add, one of the 'greatest 
conservatives of virtue in the world. Without the 
sacred joys of friendship, our life would be indeed 
but a melancholy and dreary waste, a solitude of ills. 
We may truly say with the poet — 

"' But siicli a friend! — all, sigh no more ! 
'Tis prudent, but severe: 
Heaven aid my weakness, and I drop 
All sorrow — with this tear.' 

" There is no one, I believe, my dear sir, who 
ever had the honour of the society and friendship of 
Mrs. Taylor, who did not cordially admire and es- 
teem her; and no one ever casually met with her in 
society, who did not wish to renew the acquaintance, 
and ripen it into friendship. I had the pleasure of 
her acquaintance for about eight years, and I never 
met with a lady whom I so truly esteemed. She 
was one of those individuals rarely met with, in whom 
are happily blended all those soft and amiable sus- 
ceptibilities that endear the woman, with a remarkable 
degree of those more noble qualities which tit for 
extensive usefulness, and adorn intelligent society. 

" Some of her mental productions exhibit more 
than common marks of irenius. But her most ex- 
cellent trait, and that which will ever endear her 



241 

memory, was her fervent piety. It was this heavenly 
grace, the noblest adornment of the soul, that threw 
a charm over her whole character. How mistaken 
are those who dread reUgion as their bitterest enemy; 
and will not cherish the feelings it awakens from a 
fear lest their charms should he diminished. The 
cultivation of piety is the cultivation of the heart, 
and she must needs be lovely who cultivates her 
heart. 

' Not want of rest, or the sun's parting ray, 

But finish'd duty limited the day. 

How sweet her passing life ; what lovely themes 

Smiled in her thoughts, and soften'd all her dreams.' 

" The influence of religion in refining the man- 
ners, and cultivating those qualities which so much 
sweeten and beautify our life, was not a little con- 
spicuous in Mrs. Taylor. A natural quick sensi- 
bility and warm feelings, without the softening influ- 
ence of religion might form a blending of qualities 
dangerous indeed and unlovely, but united with that, 
as they were in her, became the source of a glowing 
though chastened fancy, 

' A pure ingenuous elegance of soul, 
A delicate refinement, known to few.' 

" Yours with regard, C. L. Hequembourg." 

In addition to the preceding sketch, I am grati- 
fied in being permitted to lay before the reader an 
estimate of her character, formed by a physician who 
enjoyed her confidence and was for a considerable 
time an inmate of her family. 



63 



242 

"Le-Roy Place, March, 20, 1838, 
" Rev. and dear Sir, — If the length of my ac- 
quaintance with Mrs. Taylor were alone considered, 
it would seem hardly to justify my complying with 
your request, to contribute to her memoir ; but hav- 
ing been under great oblifjation to her for kindness 
and attention to my comfort while an inmate in her 
family, I regard this as a privilege which I cannot in 
justice to my own feelings allow to pass unimproved. 

*' In reviewing the character of our friend, it would 
be difficult to say whether she excelled most in the 
good qualities of head or heart, so pre-eminent was 
she for both ; possessed of a heart always alive to the 
dictates of humanity and affection, she was also 
gifted with powers of intellect of a high order. To 
a casual observer, and in her every-day intercourse 
with society, there was perhaps nothing particularly 
striking, though even in the most trifling things 
there was a something in her manner which could not 
fail to leave a favourable impression. She was dig- 
nified and at the same time courteous and affable ; in 
disposition, cheerful, kind, and considerate ; with a 
mind clear and philosophic, free from conceit or 
vulgar prejudice. She was open to conviction, but 
always firm in maintaining her opinions when formed 
upon subjects which she considered worthy of de- 
cision. 

" My acquaintance with Mrs. Taylor commenced 
in the fall of ISSi, and during the four following 
months I was daily in her society. She was in 
good health, and the enjoyment of every thing which 
seemed necessary to her happiness. But these 
blessings were continued to her only for a short time; 



243 

and one of my first visits to her after I removed from 
her house, which I did in January, found lier con- 
fined to a sick room. This might be considered as 
the beginning of her trials; from this time they 
were many and grievous ; in the midst of them I 
saw her occasionally, and she was always the same, 
the resiirned and humble Christian. I never can 
forget one of the last visits I paid her. She was 
speaking of having taken her final leave of her chil- 
dren, they had been removed to a distant part of the 
state, and she was not to embrace them again though 
she should live for months. Her cup of trials was 
now full; and like gold seven times purified by the 
furnace, she appeared perfected for that state of en- 
joyment for which she truly regarded this life as 
only preparatory. 

" Though during life her sphere of usefulness was 
comparatively limited ; I trust her memoir will be the 
mean of benefiting many, leading them to improve 
their opportunities, and to consider that, though re- 
tired, their duty is as plain and important as that of 
the most prominent in pubUc life; while it will 
encourage them to bear their trials with meekness, 
feeling that all things are wisely ordered, 

" "With sincere interest in its success,! am, yours 
with trreat regard, John Aug. McVickar." 

The religious experience of Mrs. Taylor presents 
so much which may be recurred to with profit, that 
no reader of her memoir, who is alive to the import- 
ance of clear views on the subject, will regret to see 
it further developed. In a letter of the Rev. Mr. 



244 

Winslow, from which an extract* has already been 
furnished ; this duty is happily performed. 

•'Brooklyn, N. Y., Aug. 1, 1837. 
'* Rev. and dear Sir, — Having perused the manu- 
script letters and literary remains of the late Mrs. 
Taylor, I cheerfully comply with your request, to 
state the impression of her christian and intellectual 
character which that perusal left upon my mind. 

" The first feature of her christian character which 
particularly interested and impressed me was her deep 
and thorough views of sin. I was rejoiced to recog- 
nize this, believing as I do that in modern conver- 
sions, attributable perhaps in a great degree to the 
rapid ingathering of converts to the faith allowing but 
little time for a close scrutiny of the evidence of con- 
version, we too much overlook this important fea- 
ture, essential as it must ever be regarded to the due 
and proper formation of the christian character. An 
experience of the exceeding sinfulness of sin must 
necessarily precede an experience of sin's great sacri- 
fice. The deep wound must be felt before the pre- 
cious balm will be sought. Arc we not in danger 
from the cause I have assigned, of substituting a 
slight and transient alarm of the conscience, for what 
the Scotch divines of other days, quaintly, but strik- 
ingly termed, *the law work of the soul?' Mrs. 
Taylor's views of sin did not rest upon the surface. 
They were deep and thorough, springing from her 
scriptural conceptions of the law of God, its spiri- 
tuality, and its extent. The successive stages of her 
christian experience evinced the value of this early 
See page 197. 



245 

discipline ; for when brought by God the Holy Ghost 
to view Christ's obedience and death as a full and 
sufficient atonement for sin, and to receive Him 
through faith in his righteousness, she emerged from 
the tempest of her convictions, into the clear sunlight 
of God 's free and entire forgiveness. In lingering 
under this happy and important period of her history, 
and which constituted a new era in her life — how 
forcibly are we reminded of the beautiful pencillings 
of the poet, for which she might have sat as the ori- 
ginal, so vivid is the resemblance. 

' Lo ! from the fearful depths of guilt and woe. 

Incumbent on her Saviour's arm, ascends 

A ransom'd spirit, fiU'd with one vast thought 

Of grateful love ; — inhaling from each glance 

Of the great Conqueror's gracious eye, life's joy — 

The joy of sins forgiven.' 

" One of the effects of this work of grace upon the 
heart may in after life be traced in the trembling 
soUcitude she evinced for the thorough conversion 
of those of her friends, in whom she discovered the 
evidence of a godly sorrow for sin. She dreaded a 
slight wound, or when deeply wounded she feared a 
slight healing. She knew the priceless value of the 
soul, and the possibihty of its awful deception. 
Blessed lesson this she had learned ! High attain- 
ment in christian scholarship ! painful though sweet 
the steps by which it was reached. The incident 
which transpired in the death chamber of this indi- 
vidual, to whose side Providence had guided her 
steps, presents a most beautiful illustration of the 
marked trait of her christian character. I may be 
permitted in this connexion to allude to the Christ- 



246 

like yearning she manifested for the salvation of sin- 
ners. It appears to have been the one aim of her 
life, — the ruling passion of her soul. Nor was she 
left to labour and to pray in vain. God highly dis- 
tinguished her as the instrument of turning many to 
riffhteousness. Let the numerous instances of con- 
version which took place among the youth, whose 
moral and intellectual training was entrusted to her 
care, and in the Sunday school class, of which she 
was the faithful and unwearied teacher, testify. How 
many, now singing the praises of God in glory, or 
who yet on earth, are running for the prize, can 
point to her as the individual whose solemn admoni- 
tions awakened in them the first serious, holy 
thought. 

" Mrs. Taylor's christian course was not always 
smooth, — her spiritual sky not always cloudless. She 
knew what it was to be a pupil in the school of 
affliction ; — and thus disciplined, she was made to 
experience some of the choicest blessings of her life. 
Who, as he surveys the process of refinement through 
which she passed during some of the early periods of 
her history, will not acknowledge, that from the fur- 
nace she came forth reflecting back more lustrously 
the image of the Refiner ? 

" I have made but a slight allusion to her intellec- 
tual endowments. These appear to have been of a 
superior order ; and sanctified as they were by the 
grace of God, eminently fitted her for the distinguish- 
ed and responsible station she filled during the early 
part of her life, as an instructress of youth — and in 
later years, for the tender and endearing relations 
she so honourably sustained, as a wife and a mother. 



24T 

" Mrs. Taylor appears to have been a woman of 
perfect transparency of character. To quote the 
beautiful observation of the biographer of Kirke 
White, between whom and Mrs. T. there were 
points of striking resemblance, — she seemed to carry 
her heart m a vase, — it was frank and open, every 
one saw it, — it was generous and affectionate, every 
one admired it. 

" That the Lord may bless you in your ministry, 
assist you in the preparation of your work, and smile 
upon it when finished, is, rev. and dear sir, the un- 
feigned desire and prayer of 

" Your fellow-labourer in the gospel, 

"OCTAVUS WiNSLOW. 

" The Rev. Lot Jones." 

To Mr. Cutter, my early friend and class-mate, I 
am greatly indebted for a beautiful and touching 
description of the feelings and sentiments of Mrs. 
Taylor, when taking leave of her children. None 
familiar with the circumstances, or present with her at 
the time, will question its correctness. The sug- 
gestions contained in the letter accompanying it are 
too valuable to be omitted. 

« Astor House, March, 1, 1838. 
My dear Friend, — The subject of the narrative 
which you placed in my hands was certainly a very 
eminent and lovely example of that true, deep, active, 
living piety, which * adorns the doctrines of the gos- 
pel of Christ.' However it may be to others, it is 
to me a more interesting: exhibition of religious 
character, from the fact, that it does not, like the far 



248 

greater number of valuable memoirs, vvliich it is our 
privilege to possess, derive any of its prominence or 
power from the peculiarly important duties or public 
relations of the subject. It shows what true Christi- 
anity may be, — nay, what she always will be, in the 
more private walks of life, if not marred by unhallow- 
ed connexions. Like the memoir of Harlan Page, 
it shows how one may be eminently good and useful 
in the world, without the usual outward accompani- 
ments of eminence, high station, and acknowledged 
celebrity. In this view it appears to me it cannot 
fail to be useful, as I am quite sure it must be highly 
interesting to all that class of readers who love truth 
better than fiction, and respect the plain garb of a 
pure and intelligent piety, more than all the outward 
adornments of a showy but heartless profession. 

"Some of the scenes affected me very deeply; 
and none more so, than that in which the infant 
children are brought into the chamber of the dying 
mother, to receive her final blessing and farewell, on 
the eve of their removal to a distant place. My re- 
flections upon that scene, and the probable feelings 
of the mother, in so trying an hour gave rise to the 
accompanying lines, which I send you, as the best 
mode of expressing the real interest I have felt in 
your manuscript. 

" Yours very truly, William Cutter." 



" Farewell ! 
Oh ! who the bitterness can tell 
Of that brief word, when on a mother's heart, 
Call'd from her helpless babes so soon to part, 
Its lingering tone of sadness swell. 



149 

" Farewell ! 
Warm, gushing from the inmost cell 
Of the heart's yearning tenderness, that knows 
No measure for its fullness — thus o'erilows 
Love's parting benison — Farewell? 

" Adieu ! 
Again, my darling babes, on you 
I may not fondly look. I may not more 
Over your precious heads low bending, pour 
My prayer, as I was wont to do. 

"Adieu ! 
Not from my heart to sever you, 
Dear precious pledges of an earnest love, 
That soon shall know its counterpart above — 
Oh no ! but only from my view. 

" Sweet Flowers ! 
Gather'd in love's terrestrial bowers — 
A few brief mornings fondly cherish'd there — 
Oh! with what yearning tenderness and care 
I would have watch'd your opening powers I 

" But go — 
Heaven calls me hence — I may not kno\v 
Your blooming or your blight — to them who ne'er 
Can feel a mother's yearnings, or her care 
To watch you as ye fade or grow. 

" Ye smile, 
Sweet babes ! unconscious all the while 
Of sorrow, fear, or parting. Life to you 
Has neither past nor future. All seems true 
That can the present thought beguile. 

" Smile on ! 
Smile on ! And oh ! when I am gone. 
May God in kindness so direct your ways. 
That love and hope may gladden all your days, 
And heaven upon their evening dawn. 



250 

" Go now — 
Upon each placid infant brow 
I've look'd my last and fondest — on each cheek 
Imprinted my last kiss — and now I seek 
To breathe a dying Mother's vow. 

" O Thou ! 
To whose behest I meekly bow, 
And leave those tender infants motherless, 
Take them to thine from my too weak embrace — 
O Father, smile upon them now. 

" Tliey're thine — 
No longer may I call them mine ! — 
Baptized into thy blessed mystic name, 
And bound to thee by that most precious claim — 
Thine, Father, they are wholly thine !" 

I find among the papers of Mrs. Taylor a letter 
written to her mother-in-law, in which allusion is 
made to a dangerous illness of her eldest son, in the 
winter of 1834. She says, " I have not indeed seen 
my babe in the cold embrace of death, but I have 
watched hours to see him die, and think I can in 
some degree sympathise with you in your bereave- 
ment." In her last address* to this child she refers 
to the same trying season. The presence of a de- 
voted missionary,! now labouring in the south eastern 
part of Asia, was peculiarly grateful and consolatory. 
Should this notice ever meet his eye, he will call to 
mind the affecting scene, and the strong faith with 
which the mother consecrated that child, so far as a 
parent could do it, to be the Lord's for ever. The 
feelings of this friend, and the spirit of his prayer at 
the time, are embodied in the following lines pre- 
sented to afflicted parents under similar circumstances. 
• See p. 2 12, 2d Stanza. f Dr. Bradley. 



251 

" Our Father, God, who dost chastise 
Thy children but in love. 
To teach our eartli-born souls to rise 
To purer joys above — 

" Oil ! let the past suffice, we pray, 
Of agony and fear ! 
O gently take thy rod away. 
And spare this infant dear ! 

" O teach the smitten parents now 
With meekness, love, and prayer. 
Before thy holy throne to bow, 
And lay their offering there. 

"And let the anxious hearts that bend 
In silent grief around. 
Look up to Thee, the mourner's Friend, 
Where only hope is found. 

" O then, for Jesus' sake, forgive. 
And hear our humble prayer ! 
O let the darling sufferer live— 
From further suffering spare. 

" While thus, all-gracious Lord ! we pray 
For this beloved one. 
We still would learn to bow, and say. 
Father, thy will be done !" 

"W. C. ' 

One further tribute to her memory, and I bring 
this memoir to a close. It is the testimony of a 
friend who had rare opportunities for forming a cor- 
rect judgment, and consists in a grouping together 
of quaUties, — a sketch of character in miniature, — a 
copy from nature, in which those who knew her will 
recognise at once the likeness of the original. 

" Mrs. Taylor was distinguished for the mildness 
and general evenness of her temper. Her language 



152 

was elegant and persuasive. There was a dignity in 
all that she said or did, comhined with a peculiar 
modesty and sweetness of expression. Benevolent 
almost to a fault, she could not look upon human 
suffering without making an effort to relieve the suf- 
ferer, — in her compassion for the woes of others she 
seemed to forget herself. As a friend, she was con- 
fiding, faithful, prudent, stcdfast. As a wife, dis- 
creet, affectionate, cheerful, contented. As a mother, 
it is impossible for language to convey a complete 
idea of that love, that strong and endearing affection 
which she constantly manifested for her children, or 
her intense solicitude for their eternal well-being. As 
a Christian, she was active, persevering, rich in faith, 
abounding in the fruits of the Spirit. She adorned 
the doctrine of God our Saviour in her daily walk 
and conversation, — and died, as might be expected, 
looking to him, who was the author and finisher of 
her faith. She knew in whom she had believed, and 
was fully persuaded, yea certain, that he would keep 
that which she had entrusted to him, untill the day 
of his appearing." 

The influence of such a woman does not cease 
when the brittle thread of life is severed. She sus- 
tained important, social relations, and though dead, 
yet speaketh. To the teachers in our Sunday 
schools, she presents a lovely example of fidelity and 
unwearied self-devotion. If it be cheering to glance 
occasionally at the results which flow frotn persevering 
and well-directed labours, they will derive from her 
success fjreat cause for encourafjement. None have 
acted under a higher sense of responsibility, or been 
more solicitous for Divine assistance. Unmindful 



153 

of personal sacrifices, and patient in communicating 
instruction, she evinced an ardent attachment to her 
scholars, and strongly enlisted all their feelings. To 
her surviving associates, and all engaged in the same 
delightful employment, she would say, "Your labours 
are for the advancement of a noble object. Be faith- 
ful, and, through Divine grace, you may be the 
honoured instruments of preparing many for the rich 
blessings of eternal life." 

Children too will feel that they had in her a friend 
of no common value. When they reflect on the ex- 
ertions she made to guide their minds in the way of 
truth and holiness, they may ask, what motive prompt- 
ed her to these self-denying efforts? Why did she 
derive so much satisfaction from directing their atten- 
tion to the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins 
of the world ? The simple answer to these inquiries 
will be, that the love of God, which dwelt in her 
heart, was the great inspiring motive. The same 
holy feeling will impart to all support in trials, and 
unfeigned pleasure in the discharge of duty. Would 
you, beloved youth, enjoy that comfort in view of 
the eternal world, which it was her privilege to pos- 
sess, your early years must be devoted to the service 
of God. If you choose the Saviour for your friend 
in the morning of your days, he will be your solace 
in every period of Hfe. Reflect on the advice of 
Mrs. Taylor to her children ; and regard it as ad- 
dressed to yourselves. May it excite you to study 
the Holy Scriptures with earnest prayer, that you 
may in suchwise " read, mark, learn, and inwardly 
digest them :" that the truths they contain may be 
indelibly impressed upon your hearts, and may bring 



254. 

forth fruit in your lives to the honour and glory of 
God. 

The manner in which Mrs. Taylor performed her 
maternal duties cannot fail to awaken a deep inter- 
est in the minds of parents. It should lead them 
to consider the precarious tenure of the relation sub- 
sisting between them and their children, and to re- 
gard these dear pledges of their affection as lent to 
them it may be only for a short period. 

"Who can be uninterested in the inquiry, — " Pa- 
rents, are you living for God and training your children 
for his everlasting kingdom ? Can you at any mo- 
ment cheerfully resign them into his hands and close 
their eyes in death, should such be his all-wise al- 
lotment, or should he remove you first ? have you 
given them to him and do you feel the comforting 
assurance that he will take care of them ?" These 
questions will be presented to every parent who con- 
templates the hfe of Mrs. Taylor. She loved her 
children with all a mother's tenderness, yet felt happy 
in committing them to the Lord's hands. Are you 
not exposed to the same vicissitudes ? How powerful 
are the motives which prompt you to consecrate all 
that you hold most dear, to an Eternal Friend, and 
live in habitual preparation for your last change ! 

Reader, whatever may be your station in Hfe, you 
have an immortal spirit and arc hastening onward to 
the judgment. The impress now made on your heart 
is for eternity. You have contemplated a fellow 
being released through the Saviour's blood, from the 
oppressive weight of sin, rising above the vanities of 
time, and preparing to unite with the Redeemer in 
glory. Her probation was similar to your own; the 



255 

same mansions to which she aspired are open before 
you. Those sinful affections over which she mourned 
and which once filled her soul with anguish, have a 
place in your breast. That Saviour to whom she fled 
for refuge kindly offers himself to you. He claims 
you as his own by the payment of a price more valu- 
able than worlds. Can you trifle with his offers, and 
trample his blood beneath your feet, reckless of the 
consequences ? 

Religion, to the subject of this memoir, was an 
unfailing source of comfort ; it sustained her in severe 
trials, protracted afilictions, and heart-rending separa- 
tions, — will it not confer the same blessings upon 
you ? If God out of Christ be a consuming fire, 
how will you appear in the day which tries men's souls ^ 
Allow these solemn and awakening considerations a 
place in your heart. Raise your thoughts to that 
bright world which she has entered, to that God and 
Saviour into whose presence she is admitted ; and in 
life's latest hour may the same glorious beams illu- 
mine your path, and " with angels and archangels and 
all the company of heaven," may you ascribe to Him 
that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb, thanks- 
giving and praise for ever and ever. 



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